


repeated introduction to romance in television

by connorswhisk



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: M/M, for the friends weekly zine!!!, i had so much fun writing this omg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:13:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 39,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26991208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connorswhisk/pseuds/connorswhisk
Summary: The first time he says it isn’t really the first time, because Troy doesn’t really remember it.Or, five times that Troy tells Abed he loves him, + the one time Abed says it back.
Relationships: Troy Barnes/Abed Nadir
Comments: 38
Kudos: 172





	repeated introduction to romance in television

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so excited to finally get to post this fic. i finished it back in july, but didn't put it up because part of this fic was getting put in the friends weekly fanzine!! that should be coming out soon, so keep an eye out
> 
> anyway, everyone in the discord for the zine was so awesome and supportive of each other, and i'm so glad that i decided to take part and write something, because it was totally worth it.
> 
> special shout-out to opal for beta'ing (the bit that's in the zine, at least)! <3
> 
> also, here's a dumb [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7pYuuxwqP43l0eNrFFybJz?si=uhrPXA-0QOyYrMai3M-i3g) i made for this fic :')

**1.**

The first time he says it isn’t _really_ the first time, because Troy doesn’t _really_ remember it. It’s not for another four years that he’ll have a dream about what happened that Halloween, will wake up in a cold sweat in his bed on the _Childish Tycoon_ and scare LeVar half to death. It’ll take him a ridiculous amount of time to calm down and to set his memories straight (though maybe _straight_ isn’t the appropriate term).

But that’s not until later. Another four years down the line.

At this moment, it’s happening _now._

This is the first year Troy and Abed have done a costume together. Last year, they’d both done their own thing, their friendship not exactly as set in stone then as it is now. The year before, Troy had been Eddie Murphy and Abed had been Batman, and they’d had fun together (when they _weren’t_ trying to stop a very high Pierce from, like, _killing himself_ ), but they weren’t quite to the point that they are now, where Troy and Abed are more like TroyandAbed, always together, always hanging out, always building the next blanket fort, planning the next _Kickpuncher_ marathon, pulling the next prank on an unsuspecting (and always unimpressed) Jeff.

It’s great. It’s _more_ than great. Troy loves hanging out with Abed, he really does. He’s spent his whole life up to this point feeling a little alone, a little incomplete, a little lost, stuck in this endless loop of _football-parties-girls-football-failing grades-keg stands-football-supportive Dad-disappointed Mom-football-football-football._ And then one day he’d just been _done_ with it. He hadn’t _wanted_ the girls and the glory anymore, not the way he was getting it. He couldn’t stand his father’s constant expectations, his mother’s sighs when she looked at his report cards, his coach’s proud boasts of _He’ll get a scholarship for it, Mr. Barnes, yessir, no question about it._ He couldn’t take it anymore. So he’d flubbed the keg flip on purpose. Busted up his shoulder and gotten himself kicked off the team his senior year, ruining any hope of his - his _father’s_ \- Big Idea of Success for his life.

That was when Mom and Dad had started to fight, before Troy started going to Greendale, after his football “friends” ditched him and started hurling rude words at him in the hallways. That was when Troy went out for frozen yogurt one day, got a flyer for some lame community college shoved in his face, and lobbed it at some dweeb’s head in order to impress the few friends he had left, not knowing how much Greendale would change his whole world, not knowing that that dweeb he’d thrown his wadded-up flyer at would turn out to be the most important person in his entire life.

Troy had really tried to keep to the jock-bully persona at the beginning of freshman year. He’d laughed at Pierce’s (admittedly pretty fucking terrible) jokes, had continued to ignore Annie’s existence as much as he could, had flirted with girls endlessly, and had tried to pretend that he didn’t want to be friends with Abed, because Troy wasn’t a _nerd,_ and Abed was _lame,_ the exact opposite of the sort of person Troy would have hung out with in high school. He hadn’t wanted to give into his geek side, the side that had always been there but had been trampled over countless times on the gridiron. He’d tried, Troy had really _tried_ to act like Abed didn’t intrigue him, didn’t make him feel better than he’d ever felt in his whole life.

But then they’d sang that _American Tail_ song to that rat, and Troy had just given up, because after that, there was really no point in pretending anymore.

Abed is the coolest person Troy’s ever met (besides maybe Jeff), and Troy wants to be his friend until he dies (hopefully in a place far away from Greendale. Like a mansion. But not Pierce’s mansion. _Please._ ).

He can’t pretend he isn’t hurt that Abed didn’t want to move in with him, though. Yeah, yeah, Troy knows, cookie metaphor and all that, but Pierce is really starting to drive him up the wall with his not-even-trying-to-hide-it-anymore racism, and his dead mom/irritatingly persuasive cult stuff, and Troy wants out. He just hasn’t figured out how to ask Abed again. Or if Abed will say yes. Or what Abed will say at all.

Troy’s oddly _nervous_ about this, which is weird and also new and also a little scary. He doesn’t know why, because he hadn’t been this nervous the first time he’d asked, but then again, he hadn’t expected Abed to reject him the first time.

Maybe there’s more to it than that, but Troy doesn’t know.

“Let’s be Ripley and the Xenomorph,” Abed says in the study room on September twenty-seventh, and Troy is thrilled because he hadn’t known if Abed had wanted to do a costume collab or not, and hadn’t known how to ask him.

“Not Bert and Ernie?” Troy asks.

Abed shrugs. “We could do that, but we’ve already been them before. For the end tag, remember?”

“Right,” Troy echoes. “For the end tag. I know, I just liked doing it. Even if I was late to my cousin’s funeral.”

Abed smiles. “I liked it, too. But we can’t keep doing the same thing. We should strive for variety. So, do you want to be Ripley?”

“Hell _yes,_ ” Troy says, grinning. “Sigourney Weaver is _awesome_ in that movie.”

“Sigourney Weaver?” Pierce cuts in, interrupting his somewhat heated debate on mail-order brides with Shirley. “Did I ever tell you about the time that Sigourney Weaver and I got it on in Bette Midler’s - “

“Pierce!” Jeff snaps. “ _Nobody_ wants to hear it!”

Pierce grumbles and returns to fighting with Shirley. Troy looks back at Abed.

“You know, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to do a joint Halloween costume this year or not.”

Abed cocks his head questioningly. “Of course I do. You’re my friend. And it makes sense within the development of our relationship that we would dress up together by now.”

“Awesome,” Troy says, and holds his hands out for their handshake. Abed smiles again, making Troy’s stomach flutter unexpectedly, does the handshake and leaves Troy to wonder why he’s feeling so _jittery._

He’s probably just excited for Halloween. That’s all.

But when the day of the party actually comes, and Britta raises an eyebrow at Troy and Abed’s costumes, and Jeff just scoffs and rolls his eyes, and Pierce coughs out a badly-concealed _Gay!_ , Troy feels anything _but_ excited.

“Hey, Abed,” Troy says, after the third girl that night gives him a weird look and walks away when he comes toward her (truthfully, the lift suit _is_ pretty clunky, but it’s _cool_ ). “Do you think doing this was a mistake?”

Abed lifts up the visor on his Xenomorph helmet. “No. Why? Are you having second thoughts?”

Troy shifts uncomfortably as a girl dressed as Hermione bumps into his costume, gives him a dirty look. “I mean, this is awesome, dude, but...”

“But you’re worried it makes you look uncool and undesirable to any potential female attention?”

Ugh, why does Abed have to be so good at reading him?

“No,” Troy says, but he sounds unconvincing, even to himself. “I just...I’ve gotta pee..”

He ditches Abed for the bathroom, hoping that he’ll understand. He takes off the lift suit, stashes it behind a potted plant (because it _is_ a cool costume, and he doesn’t really want to get rid of it), takes off his shirt and throws a toilet seat cover around his neck and some toilet paper on his wrists, because, _hey,_ he’s _improvising._ It’s not like he has time to run to Party City or anything.

“What’s this?” Abed asks once he gets out of the bathroom.

“I’m a sexy Dracula,” Troy proclaims. He shoots a quick glance at the nearest group of girls to him, but they’re all staring at whatever Pierce is doing. Pierce ruins _everything._

Abed frowns. “What happened to Ripley?”

“Look, Abed...” Troy sighs. “Messing around with you is fun and all, but no one was taking me seriously. Everyone thought I was a loser.”

Abed’s face looks blank. “I didn’t think you were a loser. I think you’re the coolest one here. Fat Neil’s dressed up as the Terminator, and I still think you’re cooler than him.”

“Fat Neil _does_ do a good Schwarzenegger,” Troy acknowledges. He can’t meet Abed’s eyes right now. The ABBA blaring from the Dean’s iPod isn’t helping, either. “It was fun, man, but...I want to be sexy Dracula.”

“Vampire,” Abed says quietly. “Sexy vampire.”

“Whatever,” Troy says, his shoulders tensing. He already feels weird about all of this.

“You think I’m lame.” It isn’t a question.

“Abed, think of it this way,” Troy says, and maybe there’s some heat behind the words. “If I’m in a lift suit, my chances of getting a girl tonight go down _drastically._ ”

“But our costumes go together,” Abed shoots back. “Without my Ripley, I’m just a guy in a spandex suit and a bike helmet.” He gives Troy a hard look, complete with clenched jaw.

“Whatever,” Troy says again, turning away from him, and then, “ _Nerd._ ”

He walks away, already regretting saying it. He didn’t plan on fighting with Abed. He feels like a shitty friend for ditching him, but it’s too late to go back now. And as it turns out, Troy doesn’t even get a chance to try out his new fit on the ladies, because all of a sudden he’s being herded into the study room as Pierce leads a group of groaning, half-asleep Greendale students through the halls, biting everyone in sight.

“We’re in a zombie movie,” Abed says, eyes twinkling in that way they always do when he’s excited about something.

“Yeah,” Troy says, equally as excited, before remembering they’re supposed to be in a fight, and going to stand by Shirley in her weird not-Miss-Piggy costume. He does his best not to look at Abed, who looks a little bit like a kicked puppy.

“What’s wrong with you two?” Britta asks. “Did you break up or something?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Troy grumbles. “It’s just...it’s nothing.”

Britta looks at him like she doesn’t believe him, and Troy makes a point to ignore her, which proves to be kind of difficult once it turns out that she and Rich were both bitten and just decided to _keep that a secret._

And then Annie gets bitten, and Shirley and Chang end up somewhere else, and then it’s Jeff, Troy, and Abed, and Troy’s trying really hard to focus on the zombies and not his best friend. Jeff’s swearing under his breath a lot about the Dean and how stupid they are for buying weird zombie meat, and also how it always seems to fall to _them_ to clean up Greendale’s messes. Troy’s just glad he’s not alone down here. It’s pretty fucking creepy. It’s dark, and there’s shadows dancing on the walls, and those zombies could burst through the door at any moment -

“Troy.”

_So much for ignoring him._

“Yeah?” Troy asks, peering around corners and hanging back just enough so that if anything jumps out in front of them, it’ll get Jeff first.

“Why did you ditch your costume?” Abed asks. “I know you said it made you look lame, but I feel like there’s more that you’re not telling me. Like in _A New Hope_ when Obi-Wan Kenobi told Luke about Darth Vader, but conveniently left out the fact that he’s Luke’s father for plot convenience.”

Troy sighs. “Why are you bringing that up now, man? We’re probably gonna die down here.”

“All the more reason to get this ironed out,” Abed persists. “You called me a nerd.”

Troy swallows. He wishes he could take that back. “Yeah, I did. What defines a nerd?”

“Committing to a costume with your best friend.” Abed sounds a little mad now. “Is that what nerds do?”

Troy stops walking, shifts uncomfortably in his spot. “I...well - “

Something clatters up ahead of them. Jeff stops walking.

“Do you hear that?” No one moves a muscle.

A blur of orange fur races in front of them, with a loud and shrieking meow.

“ _Shit!_ ” Jeff yells. He laughs nervously. “It was just a cat.”

The same screeching blur rushes by a couple of more times (seriously, who keeps an insane cat in the basement of a community college?!), and by the time they’re past that, the zombies are dangerously close to breaking down the door. There’s a window up above one of the shelves a few yards away, just waiting to be escaped through, and Troy can’t help but wonder who’s going to volunteer to go last.

Jeff takes one look at it and says, “I vote we take the door.”

Troy stares at him incredulously. “He doesn’t wanna dirty his suit. For real?”

“ _Hey,_ ” Jeff says. “This thing was _expensive._ You think David Beckham wears Kmart clothes?”

Troy doesn’t even get to dignify that with a response before the zombies burst in through the door, immediately swarming Jeff and grabbing at his _super-expensive-David-Beckham-suit, boo-hoo._

“Hey!” Jeff yelps, being dragged backwards. “That’s my jacket! _You’re stretching it!_ ”

“Come on,” Abed says, grabbing Troy’s hand and pulling him toward the window as Troy stares helplessly back at a newly-zombified Jeff. “We can’t save him.”

Troy looks up at the window, and then at how far away the zombies are from them. “Ok. If we hurry, I think we can both make it.” He squeezes Abed’s hand to reassure him, but it makes him feel better, too.

“Ok.” Abed nods, squeezing back. “You go first. I’ll cover you.”

Troy lets go of his hand and starts to scale up the metal shelf, hauling himself on top right by the window, which opens easily with a single, light push.

Troy scoffs in disbelief. “Not even a lock? How secure _is_ this campus, anyway?” He looks down at Abed, jumps a little at how close the zombies have gotten.

“Abed!” he shouts. “Come on, man!”

Abed looks up at him then, and Troy knows he’s got no hope of convincing him.

“There’s not enough time.”

“I’m not going without you!”

Abed just shakes his head. “It’s ok. Go, Troy. Make me proud. Be the first black man to make it to the end.”

There’s no point in arguing anymore. The horde of former Greendale students is almost on them, and Troy knows Abed won’t come, no matter how much he pleads. So he crawls out of the window, wishing he hadn’t ditched the Ripley costume, because he could totally have kicked zombie ass in that.

And he wouldn’t have made Abed so upset.

Troy glances back at him, maybe for the last time ever. “I’m sorry.”

Abed locks eyes with him, backed up as far as he can go against the shelf. “I forgive you.” And he smiles a little, even here and now, at the end.

A lot of things click into place for Troy all at the same time.

“I love you,” he tells him, head suddenly spinning, and he’s said it before, but never like this.

Abed nods. “I know.” And then the zombies overtake him.

Troy allows himself a full two seconds of grief before he gets to his feet and races to the front of the building, intent on one thing: _getting to the damn thermostat._

_Damn,_ he realizes as he runs on course to the main entrance, trying to find the Dean in their ridiculous-but-also-cool Lady Gaga costume. _I’m_ in love _with Abed._

All of the jittery feelings and racing pulses he’s been feeling more and more often lately suddenly make a lot more sense.

Troy’s a little shocked. Ok, yeah, he’s had a thing for Clive Owen for like, _ever,_ but he thought that was just one of those funny man-crushes that dudes sometimes get on other famous, really handsome dudes. And yeah, maybe in the locker rooms after football practice he might let his eyes wander just a little bit, but what straight dude doesn’t admire his teammate’s bods every now and then, right? Right? But this...

This is more than that.

But...Troy’s not gay. He can’t be gay. That just doesn’t work. He’s spent his whole life being told he had to like girls. And he does like girls. He likes girls.

And Abed, apparently.

In retrospect, he probably should have figured this out a lot sooner. It’s just - Abed’s so effortlessly _cool._ He’s funny, and he always seems to know what to say, and he knows a lot about TV shows and stuff, which is pretty awesome, and he’s great to be friends with, so _great._ Really, ever since they sang “Somewhere Out There” Troy’s been feeling more nervous and excited around Abed (even if Fievel the rat was totally disgusting), and what he said tonight had been truthful.

_Anything you say in the heat of the moment must be true,_ Mom used to tell him. _Even if you don’t want it to be. You don’t say something made up when you’re all emotional like that. The world don’t work that way._

And what happened tonight hadn’t just been a chance to reenact one of Abed’s favorite romantic movie moments (right up there with the King of the World scene in _Titanic,_ and pretty much all of _The Princess Bride,_ Troy knows). It had been real. A heat of the moment decision that had been completely, one hundred percent true.

_How am I supposed to deal with this?_ _Especially now that I’ve_ told _him?! And that’s only if we get out of this at all,_ Troy thinks with a jolt, but by then he’s found the Dean and he’s rushing back into the school to save the day, putting on the lift suit and feeling a real Ellen Ripley type of badass before the zombies tear it to shreds (why Troy thought that would work is beyond him).

He dodges Zombie!Annie, Zombie!Star-Burns, Zombie!Chang, because he’s seen _Night of the Living Dead_ with Abed enough times to know that zombified friends do _not_ come back, no matter how much you want them to and no matter how hard you try. Hopefully, everyone’ll be okay once Troy fixes the temperature, but for now it’s way too risky to try anything. He can talk later.

But when he sees Abed, he stops anyway. Because Abed is his best friend. Because he hurt Abed’s feelings tonight. Because tonight, Troy told Abed he was in love with him, and Abed thought it was a _Star Wars_ reference.

“Abed?” Troy asks tentatively, as tentatively as he can while holding back Zombie!Shirley.

Zombie!Abed tilts his head. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but it almost seems like the real Abed’s still in there somewhere, fighting to get out...

“Hey, Abed!” Troy reaches out and rests a careful hand on Zombie!Abed’s shoulder, pushing. “It’s me, Troy! We’re friends...”

Zombie!Abed hesitates...and proceeds to bite Troy right on the arm.

“ _Abed, no!_ ” Troy shrieks, and then, “ _No, Britta!”_ And he’s being bitten over and over again.

He manages to shake off the zombies, retreat to a corner. “Okay, okay, I’ve been bit, y’all.” He rubs at the bite spots, hissing at the contact. “Damn. _Congrats._ You did what zombies do.”

He can already feel his brain getting foggy, so Troy soldiers on. He’s so close, the thermostat is _right there..._

The last thing Troy remembers before blacking out completely is ABBA blaring over the speakers, and the thought, _I should watch_ Mamma Mia! _with Abed sometime..._

When he comes to, he’s sitting on the floor of the study room next to Abed, swaddled in a blanket, and his brain just has this giant blank space where the Halloween party should be. Annie says something about someone drugging the entire school, and that must be true, because what else could have happened? Troy doesn’t know.

The only thing he remembers is that he’s pretty sure he’s in love with Abed, and that’s going to potentially cause a lot of trouble down the line.

But Troy doesn’t have to worry about that now. For now, he can sit on the couch in Abed’s dorm and watch _Marmaduke,_ and if he leans over and rests his head on Abed’s shoulder, and Abed reaches his hand around and spends the better part of the movie tracing light and lazy circles on Troy’s back, then that’s just fine.

It’s nothing they haven’t done before.

**2.**

Life goes on pretty normally, all things considered. Troy messes around with Abed in Anthropology, rolls his eyes with everyone else when Britta gets too political, makes notches on his side of the table whenever he feels like it. Sure, Troy may have to deal with the overwhelming fact that he’s in love with his best friend, but as long as he doesn’t _tell him,_ it’ll all work out.

Right?

Right.

Troy still goes around and flirts with girls (though he takes a break for all of January to make sure Abed’s doing ok, after everything that happened with the stop motion thing and his mom). Just because he’s in seemingly totally unrequited love with Abed doesn’t mean he’s not going to stay in the game. It’s something for Troy to do, a distraction to keep him from focusing on Abed being... _Abed._

Although it’s kind of hard to ignore all that when they’ve both got a thing for the same girl.

“ _God,_ she’s hot,” Troy says, staring over at the librarian’s desk. He and Abed have both been sort of checking her out for the past week. They don’t even know her name, but she’s geeky and bookish-looking in a sexy kind of way.

Abed nods in agreement. “She’s very attractive. Being a librarian definitely helps.”

“Why does that make her even _hotter?_ ” Troy asks, keeping his voice relatively low even though she’s on the other side of the library.

“Librarians are keepers of knowledge,” Abed answers, watching intently as she stamps overdue book after overdue book. “She answers questions. Like ‘Will you marry me?’ And ‘Why are there still libraries?’”

Troy hums. “I wanna be a book. She could pick me up, flip through my pages, make sure nobody drew wieners in me...” He stares wistfully as the librarian licks an envelope, seals it, and moves on to another stack of overdues.

“It’s cool that we both like her,” Abed says, turning to Troy, after a failed attempt to get her attention. “I think it’s a good thing for us to bond over.”

Troy hadn’t thought of that. Sharing a crush with your best friend _is_ sort of cool. “Yeah, you’re right. Hopefully she doesn’t end up being distantly related to one of us or anything.”

Abed grins, understanding the reference, because of course he does. “Related to _you,_ you mean,” he says. “I’m Han Solo in this situation. I’m always Han Solo.”

Troy nods. “I’ve always seen myself as more of a Lando, but for purposes of keeping up the metaphor, I guess I can be Luke.”

He does the handshake with Abed. For some reason, he can’t stop smiling.

He’s about to go down a deep rabbit-hole of thinking of more ways that his daily life at Greendale mirrors the _Star Wars_ universe (Leonard is _obviously_ Darth Sidious), when the arrival of one Jeff Winger disrupts his train of thought.

“Jeff!” Troy says. Jeff sits in his usual chair, looks up from his phone like it pains him to do it. There’s a pretty good chance Jeff wants nothing to do with any of this. Troy decides to just go for it.

“What do you do when you and your best friend want to ask the same girl to the Valentine’s Dance, but you’re not sure what to do because neither of you have dibs and you both fell in love at first sight with her at the same exact time?”

Jeff sighs, like he always does when he doesn’t care. Which is often. “Well, I don’t believe in dibs, love at first sight, love, best friends, or doing things, but it’s good that you brought this to me. Britta would have handled this _terribly._ ”

“You’re gonna have to open your heart one day, Jeff,” Abed says. Jeff just rolls his eyes.

Troy wants to ask him for more advice on the subject, considering Jeff tends to be the smoothest guy with the ladies, like, _ever,_ but then the others start to trickle in, Britta bragging about her lesbian friend and Pierce moonwalking out of the study room, and then Jeff insults the Barenaked Ladies, which means that Troy won’t be asking him for _any_ advice in the next... _forever._

Turns out they don’t even need it, because once Jeff storms out and Britta leaves to go be with her lesbian bestie and Shirley and Annie walk out whispering loudly about Pierce and his painkillers, Abed takes Troy by the hand (something he’s been doing more and more often lately, just casually interlocking their fingers like it’s the easiest thing in the world), and by the time Troy gets over the bout of butterflies in his stomach, they’re at the circulation desk, telling the librarian - _Mariah,_ according to the plaque next to her computer - all about their predicament.

Mariah raises her (perfectly manicured) eyebrows. “Ok, let me just say: this is the absolute cutest thing to ever happen to me.”

Abed grins, and Troy starts to lift his arm for a fist pump, before realizing he’s still holding hands with Abed, so he settles for a high-five with their free hands instead. Mariah notices, looks a little surprised, like she’s never seen two best friends holding hands before, which is a little weird, but whatever.

“...Anyway,” Mariah continues, making her fingers steeple out in front of her like one of those cool attorney ladies in those law dramas Abed likes to watch. “I don’t really know either of you. You both seem nice, but we’ve only just met, even _if_ you’ve been adorably staring at me from your table for a week.”

Abed considers this. “Give us a moment.”

He pulls Troy (still by the hand) off to the side, raises his eyebrows questioningly. “What do you wanna do?”

“We could give her a crash course in everything she needs to know about us,” Troy suggests. “So by the time we get to the dance, it’ll be like she’s known us for years.”

Abed nods. “That’s a good idea, but we have to get to class soon.”

Troy frowns. “Oh, yeah.”

“What if we - ?” Abed starts, and Troy knows immediately how he’s going to finish.

He nods excitedly. “Think that’ll work?”

Abed grins. “Definitely.”

He lets go of Troy’s hand when they turn back to the circulation desk. Troy tries not to feel too disappointed about it.

“New proposal: Get to know us at the dance, and decide which one of us you’d like to see again afterwards.”

Mariah looks slightly taken-aback. “That was fast.”

“We work well together,” Troy says, a little proudly, because out of everyone at Greendale, _he_ gets to be Abed’s best friend.

“Let us reiterate: Don’t feel pressured to go with us at all if you don’t want to. We’d rather you be one hundred percent on board with this than for you to just come because you feel an obligation to,” Abed says.

Mariah smiles. “I’d love to go,” she says. “See you at the dance.” And she winks flirtatiously.

Troy and Abed leave the library and set off for Anthropology with matching grins on their faces. Troy feels like he’s walking on air.

“I guess we didn’t need Jeff ‘BNL-Hater’ Winger’s help after all,” Abed says.

“Nope!” Troy holds his hands out for their handshake. Abed happily complies.

“Hopefully this won’t turn into the classic sitcom trope of a friendship ruined over a shared attraction to somebody,” Abed says casually, like it doesn’t mean anything, and Troy feels his grin slide off his face.

“That won’t happen,” he says confidently. “We’re too close for that.”

But he can feel doubt settling in the pit of his stomach like the giant boulder in _Raiders of the Lost Ark_.

The trouble really starts when Troy goes to Abed’s dorm to prep before the dance. Mariah’s going to meet them in the cafeteria, and Abed had asked Troy to come over beforehand, but what Troy isn’t expecting when the door opens is for Abed to look so _good._

It’s honestly nothing new at all. He’s seen Abed wear this exact combination of clothing at least twice already this month. Abed hasn’t done anything different with his hair, he hasn’t added a fancy watch or any other sort of accessory, he isn’t even wearing any cologne. But when he answers the door, Troy’s head starts to spin.

“Hey,” Abed says.

“Hey,” Troy repeats. He swallows roughly.

Abed’s eyebrows knit together. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” Troy forces out, hoping Abed can’t tell what’s going on from his face. “Yeah...You look really good.”

Which he hadn’t meant to say at all, but Abed just smiles, says, “Cool. So do you,” and lets him in.

Troy sits down on the couch. The TV is blaring a rerun of _Supernatural,_ which Troy _knows_ Abed doesn’t like, so something must be up.

“Everything good?” he asks, as Abed examines himself in the mirror hanging on the back of the door.

“Yep,” Abed says, maybe a little too quickly. “Everything’s cool. Cool, cool, cool.”

“Abed, you can tell me if something’s bothering you, man.”

Abed sighs and turns around. “To be honest, I’m a little nervous. Which is weird, because I don’t usually _get_ nervous. It’s not in character for me.”

Troy frowns. “Why are you nervous?”

Abed sits down carefully next to him on the couch. His hands squirm restlessly in his lap. “I guess it’s because of Mariah.”

“You guess?”

Abed shrugs. “Or maybe I’m not sure. I mean, I’m not worried about who she’s going to choose. If it’s me, that’s great. If it’s you, that’s also great. It’s a win-win situation.”

Troy looks down at the floor. “You don’t think we’ll get mad at each other? Like all those other people on TV?”

“Are you worried we might?”

Troy doesn’t move his gaze from the carpet. “I think so.”

Abed considers this, or at least, Troy thinks he does from his silence. He still isn’t looking at him.

“I know this is a trope,” Abed says. “And usually, the friends get angry with each other when one comes out on top and gets the girl. But we’re not exactly like them. I mean, we’re best friends, but we’re nothing like Chandler and Joey, right?”

Troy shakes his head. “Britta says they’ve got a lot of toxic masculinity to work out.”

“Exactly,” Abed continues. “And we don’t have that problem. We’re not like the standard sitcom pair of best friends; we’re something different. I know you, and I know our friendship, and I know that I’m not going to get mad if Mariah chooses you, and that you’re not going to get mad if she chooses me. Right?”

“Right.”

“Right. So, I don’t really think there’s anything to worry about.”

Troy looks up finally, a wave of relief washing through him, and smiles. “Thanks, Abed. That made me feel a lot better.”

Abed nods. “No problem.” And he says it so softly that Troy forgets that Mariah even exists, just for a moment.

“We should probably head out now,” Abed says, snapping Troy out of it. “We don’t want to keep Mariah waiting.”

“Yeah,” Troy agrees, getting to his feet. “Let’s go have an awesome Valentine’s Day, right, buddy?”

“Right.”

When they get to the cafeteria (dodging Britta and her lesbian friend trying to accost them with a speech about how progressive they are for doing what they’re doing), Mariah is waiting for them at a table. She looks great. Like, _really_ great (privately, Troy still thinks Abed looks better). If Troy doesn’t get chosen, he might take it just a little bit harder than he thought he would.

“Hey, guys,” Mariah says brightly, waving at them with a flutter of her hand. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Troy and Abed say in unison, and grin at each other when they do.

“You look pretty,” Troy says. He hopes it doesn’t sound too corny.

Abed nods in agreement. “Very pretty.”

Mariah smiles, and says, “Thanks, guys. You both look cute, too.”

Troy smiles back. He fist bumps Abed.

“Cool,” Abed says. “That’s what we want to hear.”

“So.” Mariah props her head up on her elbow, leaning against the (wobbly in only the way Greendale property can be) table. “Troy. Abed. Let’s start with an easy one: What can you guys give me in a relationship?”

Abed perks up. “Ooh, it’s like an episode of _The Bachelorette._ Well, Mariah, what you get with me is the complete package: HBO, Showtime, Starz, Starz Black. I could go on.”

“Sounds expensive,” Mariah says, in a way that makes Troy think she’s not impressed at all. Which is crazy, because who _wouldn’t_ want to spend all day watching TV with Abed?

Mariah turns to him. “Troy?”

“With all due respect to my friend, if you go with me, you can expect this on the dance floor,” Troy says, maneuvering backwards and doing a complicated set of the first dance moves that come to mind. They probably make him look a little stupid, but if Mariah really likes him, she won’t care, right?

“Wow,” she says, once Troy’s walked back over to the table, panting slightly. “Impressive.”

Troy grins. “Thank you.”

Some time later (Troy pointedly ignores Pierce’s weird seizure-dancing in the corner, because _man,_ that’s going to be annoying to deal with when they go home), after several more dance breaks from Troy and an entirely correct analysis of the _Saw_ movie franchise from Abed, while Annie watches Britta and the lesbian (or maybe Britta is the lesbian? Troy actually has no idea) dancing warily from the sidelines, it’s time for Mariah to make her decision.

She looks thoughtful. “Abed, could you get us some punch?”

Abed gives her a thumbs up, says, “On it,” and leaves. Maybe Troy’s mind is messing with him ( _again,_ really?), but it almost seems like Mariah looks a little relieved once Abed is gone.

Troy’s mind had _better_ be messing with him, in that case.

Mariah smiles at him, and Troy forgets about it. “You guys are really cute together,” she says.

Troy smiles back. “Thank you.” It means a lot to him that Mariah, whoever she ends up dating, likes the both of them. Troy and Abed are a package deal.

“But, you know,” Mariah continues. “Having to actually _choose,_ I...”

“Hey,” Troy says, trying to get rid of any possible guilty feelings on Mariah’s part. “We both agreed to this. We’re both comfortable with each other. Neither of us will be mad at you or each other, no matter who you go with. So, I really won’t be - ”

“No,” Mariah says, shaking her head like Troy’s not understanding something. “I choose you, Troy.”

For every reason, Troy should be overjoyed right now. The first girl that he’s gone on a date with (even if it’s more like a _pre-date_ ) in a longass time wants to go out with him for real. She wants to be Troy’s girlfriend. They’ll watch movies together in Pierce’s big home theater, they’ll meet up with each other for lunch, Troy will walk Mariah over to her desk in the library and give her a peck on the lips before sitting at the study table, and Annie and Shirley will do that “awwww” thing that they always do, and Abed’ll be happy for him, and Troy won’t have to deal with being in love with _him_ anymore, because he’ll be in love with Mariah. This is what Troy’s wanted to hear Mariah say all night.

But maybe Troy never actually wanted her to choose him at all. He’s not feeling very joyful right now, not like how he should be, and Mariah is smiling at him all sweet-like, and she’s really, really pretty, but this doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t.

“Oh,” Troy manages to say. “But I don’t understand - “

Of course this is when Abed comes back holding three cups of punch, and Troy suddenly understands that the whole reason Mariah sent Abed away at all was to tell Troy she picked him behind Abed’s back, even though they’d _told_ her they wouldn’t be mad, and that’s just so unfair to Abed that -

“Troy?” Abed asks.

Troy snaps back to reality. “Hey, Abed...”

“Hey.”

Troy swallows. Mariah smiles at him encouragingly from across the table, and while that smile would’ve made Troy’s stomach do cartwheels four hours earlier, now it just makes him feel a little sick.

  
“I, um,” he says. “She, uh...she just, uh...She chose me.”

Abed barely even blinks. He looks at the floor for a fraction of a second, but he doesn’t seem upset. He doesn’t even really frown.

“Cool,” he says simply, like nothing even happened at all. “You can have my punch.” He puts the cup in Troy’s hand, turns to Mariah. “Thank you, Mariah. I had a nice time. Have a great night.”

Troy watches Abed make his way through the crowd, until he walks out the doors to the cafeteria, and Troy can’t see him anymore. He’s gone. He’s gone, and Mariah chose Troy.

Mariah smiles, and Troy tries to smile back. Hopefully it doesn’t look as much like a grimace as it feels.

“Let’s dance,” she says, taking him by the hand and pulling him out to the dance floor. They fall into a sort of slow-dancing position, even though the song that’s playing is actually pretty peppy and upbeat.

“Hey,” Mariah says, after going into a long rant about some book about a dude named Nicholas Nickleby, staring somewhere past Troy’s shoulder. “Isn’t that your friend from the study group?”

Troy turns. Britta and her lesbian friend are locked in a pretty awkward-looking embrace, lips mashing against each other in all the wrong ways. Troy cringes without meaning to.

“Yikes,” Mariah remarks. “Doesn’t look like a particularly engaging kiss.”

Troy puts his hands back on her waist. “Huh,” he muses. “I didn’t know Britta was into girls. I thought she just wanted to be friends with that other girl to make her look cool.”

“Well, you learn something new everyday.”

“Yeah,” Troy says, making a mental note to maybe ask Britta about that? Because it’d be nice to talk to someone like him that he actually knows well enough to be comfortable around. Someone _other_ than the guy he’s hopelessly in love with.

“So,” Troy says, and he can already feel anger creeping around his shoulders again. “I’m curious about one thing: What was wrong with Abed?”

Mariah looks a little confused by the question, but she rolls her eyes flirtatiously (Troy doesn’t really find it as cute as he used to anymore) and says, “Well, I mean, he did talk about the _Saw_ movies for two hours.”

Troy frowns. What does she have against _Saw?_ Besides the gore which, to be fair, grosses Troy out, too. “Yeah, but there are eight of them, and they’re all two hours long. And, the first one _did_ redefine the genre, so - “

Mariah interrupts him (even though she shouldn’t, and these things about the _Saw_ movies are honestly common knowledge. And why is she mad that Abed talked about _Saw?_ She’s been talking about books for the past ten minutes!). “Troy, I would really _love_ to be Abed’s friend - ”

Troy nods. “I know you would. Everyone does, it’s incredible. He’s incredible.”

“ - but romantically? He’s...you _know_...”

Troy doesn’t know. Why does she expect him to know? What is she going to say, and is it going to drive him crazy?

Another silly-looking eye-roll. “ _Weird,_ Troy. Abed’s a _weird_ guy.”

And that’s the final nail in the coffin.

“What?!” Troy exclaims, not caring how loud he is, not caring if people stare, because he’s too _angry_ to care. “Abed’s not - Why would - You _can’t_ \- Hello?!?!?”

Mariah blinks and steps backwards. “Troy, why are you so worked up about this? I chose you. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Troy glares harder than he’s ever glared at anyone in his life. “Why would _anyone_ ever choose _me_ over _Abed?_ Why would anyone ever choose _anyone_ over Abed?!”

Mariah scowls, her sugar-honey-sweetness completely gone. “If I’d have known you cared so much about your _weird_ friend, then I wouldn’t have agreed to go out with you two in the first place!”

“Good!” Troy yells, and more people are staring but he does. Not. Care. “I don’t want to date you, anyway!”

Mariah’s lip curls. “Fine then. Have fun with your _boyfriend._ ”

She stomps off toward the refreshments table, so Troy stomps off in the other direction, toward the door.

“Troy, honey, do you need to talk about this?”

“I’m _fine,_ Shirley.”

“Ha! You’d rather make out with Ay-bed than date the hot librarian! Gay!”

“Shut it, Pierce! Forget about french toast for breakfast tomorrow morning!”

  
Annie tries to stop him, but he shakes her off.

“I hate her, I hate her, I hate her, I hate her, I hate her, _I hate her,_ ” Troy seethes, bursting through the doors to find Abed in the hall, waiting for him.

Abed turns to him, frowns. “I thought you two were having fun. What happened?”

Troy wheels around to face him. “She called you weird!”

Abed shrugs. “I _am_ weird.”

“Not as weird as her! Who the _hell_ is Nicholas Nickleby?” Troy fumes. “She wouldn’t shut up about it.”

Abed rolls his eyes, and it’s so much different from the way Mariah did it, so familiar, so friendly, so _Abed,_ that Troy instantly feels better. “Hm, I know.”

Troy puts his hand on Abed’s shoulder, desperate to fix this entire stupid, garbage night. “Hey, there’s someone out there for us. I don’t know who, but we’re gonna find them. You’ll have someone, I’ll have someone. It’s gonna be awesome.”

That’s what Troy tells him. What he _doesn’t_ tell him is that he really, really, _really_ wants for his someone to be Abed. He doesn’t know how Abed would react. He doesn’t even know how _he_ would react. He doesn’t.

He _does_ know that sometimes he loves Abed so much, it hurts him.

Abed looks at Troy. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says.

Troy’s face splits into a huge grin. “It is now.”

He hugs Abed then, and Abed hugs him back, and it’s not unnatural, it’s not forced, it’s not _weird_ for them to be doing this, not like it was when Troy was dancing with Mariah, because this is them, and this is TroyandAbed, and this is nice and warm and _real._

Mariah walks out of the cafeteria and scoffs as she walks past, but Troy just says, “Ignore her,” and Abed does and so does Troy, and they hug for a long, long time.

Later, on Abed’s couch, after they’ve all listened to that cheesy apology voicemail from Jeff that totally made Troy cry a little, and he and Abed are watching the third _Kickpuncher_ movie (even though they’ve seen it enough times to quote it practically word-for-word), it slips out, and Troy can’t stop it.

“You’re warm,” Abed is saying, from his spot under the blanket where he’s curled into Troy’s side. “I like that.” And Troy’s stomach is swooping and his heart is twanging and he just says it.

“I love you.”

It takes him exactly three and a half seconds to realize what he’s just said, and also that Abed hasn’t said anything back, and that’s when the panic starts to settle in.

“We had a good night,” Abed says nonchalantly. “I’m glad you’re my best friend.”

Troy is simultaneously relieved and disappointed that Abed didn’t realize that was a confession. He leans his head on top of Abed’s, watches as Kickpuncher rips the arm off a black guy who, due to continuity error, was white in the last shot.

“I’m glad you’re my best friend, too.”

And he really is. If their friendship never becomes anything more than that, Troy might be disappointed, but he’ll be ok in the end. Because as long as he can be with Abed, he’ll be happy.

Things are quiet for a few more minutes as Troy’s heart rate slows back down to normal, and then Abed says, “Remember how at the end of last year I told you we shouldn’t move in together, and that it would jump the shark?”

“Yeah?”

“I think it’s ok for us to do that now,” Abed says. “Our relationship has progressed naturally to that point. We could move in together next year, if you want.”

Something explodes on screen. Troy barely even registers it. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Abed says, looking up at him. “Only if you want to.”

Troy smiles. “Of course I want to, Abed.”

Abed gives a small smile back. “Cool,” he says, snuggling a little closer into Troy’s side. “Cool, cool, cool.”

Troy spends the night on Abed’s bottom bunk. He hopes Pierce doesn’t mind.

**3.**

So Troy and Abed move in together, get a cheap apartment in a somewhat shady building with a kinda creepy landlord and (initially, before Troy finally does something about it) no hot water. It’s old, and the lights flicker, and pretty much everything except the AC (again, thanks to Troy) goes back and forth between working and not, and the first time Jeff comes over he scoffs at the Andy Warhol paintings of Troy and Abed on the walls in that Jeff Winger way that means he actually think they’re pretty cool, and something like seven different timelines get created at that table over Yahtzee, and Troy loves the place. Abed loves the place. And, eventually, Annie loves the place, too.

It’s all Troy could really want in a place to live. Pierce’s mansion had been fancy and new, but it hadn’t really felt like home. It had been colorful and crazy in that way that only something belonging to Pierce Hawthorne could be, but it had also been cold. And empty. Pierce has had no kids, even with seven marriages. He used to tell Troy it was because he had hyper-virile sperm, but maybe all those wives of his didn’t _want_ Pierce’s children. It makes Troy a little sad to think about. Pierce has been married to _seven women,_ and none of their relationships lasted long enough, it seems, to make anyone truly happy. And Shirley got remarried to Andre, and they seem like they work pretty well together, but the only reason they _had_ to get remarried a second time is because of Andre cheating the _first_ time. And who even _knows_ what’s going on with that whole Jeff/Annie/Britta mess, which Troy is sort of a part of because he kind of likes Britta, and that’s good because it distracts him from the fact that Abed doesn’t like Troy back, and that just makes things even more complicated.

Troy understands that love can be messy. But he’s only been in love one time, and now he wakes up every morning to it snoring in the bunk above him.

It’s nice. To be even closer to Abed than he was before, even if at first they felt like they were spending too _much_ time with each other (Troy has since discovered that there really is no such thing as too much Abed, or at least, not to him). To eat buttered noodles and watch _Inspector Spacetime,_ and to plan new storylines to try out in the Dreamatorium. To cuddle with Abed on Annie’s bed while watching some corny-yet-still-makes-Troy-cry romcom with her, and to fall asleep with Abed’s hand on his waist, his breath on his neck, and Annie somewhere in the middle of it or not at all.

Troy’s happy. He’s happy he’s no longer living with Pierce. He’s happy he’s living with Abed, who he still loves a ridiculous amount, and he’s happy that Annie is here, too, because somehow, the apartment feels more complete with her there.

They get a cat - well, it’s more like Annie finds a kitten in the alley adjacent to the apartment on her way back from a run one day, and she’s a little ball of grey fluff with orange eyes, and Annie doesn’t even have to do her Disney Eyes because Troy and Abed are already head-over-heels in love.

“So, we can keep her?” Annie asks, but the tail end of her sentence is drowned out by Troy’s squealing when the kitten hops up onto his lap.

“ _Abed,_ ” he says, trying not to start crying as she rubs her head against his thigh. “ _She’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and we have to keep her._ ”

“Normally, I would say no. Cats and I don’t have good history. But she’s too cute,” Abed says, wonder in his tone. “There’s no way we can turn out something this adorable. What should we name her?”

Annie grins and claps her hands together. “Ok, well _I’ve_ always wanted to have a cat named Roxie, and I think that’s a super cute name for a kitty, but I’m open to any other suggestions if you have any.” Her smile looks overly-innocent, like she’s trying so hard to convince them that she’s going to like anything _other_ than Roxie as a name.

“That’s nice,” Troy says, regrettably sounding a bit like Shirley. “But I think she needs something more _kickass._ Like Spiderman.”

Annie does her little gasp-scoff thing. “Troy, I am _not_ naming our cat _Spiderman!_ ”

Troy scowls. “Hey, it’s not my fault Spiderman is the coolest superhero out there. This cat would be _honored_ to carry that name.”

Annie puts her hands on her hips. “How do you even know that? Cats can’t understand humans. She won’t _know_ that it’s _so very_ _honorable._ ”

“How do _you_ know cats _don’t_ understand humans?”

“Are you _kidding_ me? That is just - “

Abed snaps his fingers, effectively putting a stop to Troy and Annie’s argument. “I’ve got it.”

Annie frowns. “Got what?”

Abed stands, eyes sparkling. “The perfect name for our cat, no, more like, _any cat ever._ ”

“Cooler than Spiderman?” Troy asks.

Abed nods. “Even cooler than Spiderman.”

It must be pretty freakin’ cool, then.

“Well, come on,” Annie says impatiently. “Are you going to tell us, or not?”

Abed spreads his arms for dramatic effect. Troy can already feel himself moving to the edge of his seat, the cat squirming in his lap as he does.

“Kitten Tarantino,” Abed declares, and Troy thinks he falls a little more in love with him just for that.  
  
“ _Dude,_ ” he says. “That is the _best_ name for a cat _ever._ ”

Abed grins. “I know.”

They do their handshake.

“Absolutely _not,_ ” Annie says. “I am not naming our cat _Kitten Tarantino._ ”

Troy glares at her. “Why not?”

Annie throws up her hands. “I don’t even _like_ those movies! And what was so wrong with Roxie? I thought it was _cute._ ”

“You liked _Kill Bill,_ ” Abed points out.

“Well, I - “

“And _Kill Bill Vol. 2,_ ” Troy says.

“Ok, yeah, but - “

“And don’t pretend you didn’t have fun dressing up as Honey Bunny for the _Pulp Fiction_ party Jeff threw for me. You made a great Amanda Plummer.”

Annie makes a strangled noise of exasperation. “Gah! Yes, ok, I liked all those things! But can’t we name her - I don’t know - _Puma Therman?_ Or like, Catalie Portman, or something?”

Troy winces. “ _Annie._ ”

Abed’s eyes flicker darkly. “We’re not naming our cat after anyone involved in the - in the - I can’t even say it - the - Troy, help me out here.”

“ _The prequels,_ ” Troy mouths to Annie as Abed plugs his ears. “ _Nothing from the prequels!_ ”

Annie rolls her eyes. “You guys really like Kitten Tarantino, huh?”

Troy and Abed nod in unison.

She sighs a long, heavy sigh. “... _Fine._ ”

Abed pumps his fist, and Troy lifts the cat, puts her in Annie’s arms, and starts kissing Annie all over her face.

“ _Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!_ ”

Annie giggles. “Troy! Get off!” She lifts Kitten Tarantino up, and she starts to lick Annie’s cheek. “We can dress her up in a mini Bride jumpsuit for Halloween, right?”

Abed grins. “Annie, that’s the best idea ever.”

  
And with the addition of Kitten Tarantino, the apartment starts to feel even more like _home._

_Home._ Troy would call this apartment his home. He’d call his mom’s place his home. He’d call Greendale his home. He’d call the entire state of Colorado his home.

But really, to Troy, home is wherever Abed is.

Everything is just so _great_ in Troy’s life right now. The study group is doing all right in Biology, he’s probably on track to start dating Britta at some point, he’s living with his best friends and the love of his life, the AC repair school is _finally_ starting to get off his back just a little, and he still calls Mom every weekend, and he role plays _Inspector Spacetime_ in the Dreamatorium with Abed, and even if he’s juggling feelings for two different people right now, even _if_ Dad never answers his calls, even _if_ Troy wakes up with Abed as his big spoon and an awkward case of morning wood, things couldn’t be better, they _couldn’t_ be better, they -

They’re in a fight.

Nana Barnes always used to say: _What goes up, must come down._

They haven’t come down lightly, like a balloon. They’ve crashed down hard.

It starts with that stupid impressionist job. Abed was putting himself in danger of getting both his legs broken, Troy was afraid for his _safety,_ and then Abed acted like it was nothing. Like it didn’t scare Troy to death because he wasn’t sure what Vinnie was going to do to Abed, if he was serious or not, and then Abed had hired _more_ impersonators even _after_ the job, and it made Troy angry. It made him really, _really_ angry, even though he didn’t want to be angry at all.

They’d agreed: _Friends don’t lie to each other._ But they’d lied, a little bit, and things got shaky, and then they shook more, and now it’s like they’re holding on for dear life to the back of a kicking bull, trying not to get thrown off and seriously hurt, or something. Maybe Troy’s bad at analogies.

Vice Dean Laybourne had been right: Everyone thinks Abed is cooler than Troy. Troy is nothing but his stupid sidekick, his comic relief, the guy that everyone likes but no one really takes seriously, not when he’s stuck in Abed’s shadow.

Troy doesn’t _want_ to be Abed’s sidekick, he wants to be Abed’s...Abed’s...

_Some_ thing.

So it’s come down to the United Forts of Pillowtown vs. the Legit Republic of Blanketsburg, and Troy hadn’t really wanted it to go this far, but it’s happened, and there’s no going back now.

“I’m giving you two imaginary friendship hats,” Jeff says, putting one on Abed’s head and then one on Troy’s. “These hats make you automatically friends again. Ok? Ok. Are we done?”

“Sorry, Jeff.” Troy pulls his hat off, throws it in the corner, tries not to feel too sad when he sees Abed do the same. “This matter’s a little more serious than that.”

“No, it’s not,” Jeff says exasperatedly. “You’re children, acting like grownups. I mean, it’s fine, and I don’t care _what_ you do, but just don’t pretend it’s anything but that.”

But it is. Of course Jeff wouldn’t understand, but this is serious, the most serious thing to ever happen to their friendship. Jeff doesn’t have an Abed in his life - he doesn’t have an Abed in the way Troy has an Abed. No one does.

No one... _did._

“The Legit Republic of Blanketsburg says that Pillowtown has until midnight tonight to surrender its territory,” Troy states. “Otherwise, we attack.”

Abed scoffs. “The United Forts of Pillowtown declines the request.”

Troy grits his teeth. “It’s _not_ a request. I’m giving you an all tomato,” he says, ignoring Jeff’s half-hearted correction on his pronunciation. “Meaning I want the whole tomato from you, or else.”

“Or else what?” Abed asks, narrowing his eyes, and Troy swallows. He wonders if Abed’s feeling conflicted at all, or if he doesn’t regret a thing.

“I’ll see you at midnight,” Troy says, standing up and storming out of the room.

The last thing he sees before he shuts the door is his friendship hat, crumpled in a corner.

“We’re not going home tonight, are we?” Annie asks, as she wraps scotch tape around someone’s broken pair of glasses.

“No,” Troy says flatly. “I don’t think anyone is.”

Annie gives him a sad little look, and Troy isn’t sure of its total meaning. “Ok. I’ll call and ask Mr. Clark to feed Kitten Tarantino.”

Troy hugs her. “Thanks, Annie. I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head. “Why can’t you guys just apologize to each other?”

“It’s bigger than that,” Troy says. “I wish we could.”

“We’re gonna fix this,” Annie tells him. “I’m gonna get Jeff and we’re gonna fix this.”

Troy pretends he doesn’t hear her. “Sun’s going down,” he says, staring out the window. “I should get back to Blanketsburg.”

“Be safe!” he hears Annie call after him.

She doesn’t get it, either.

He runs into Britta in the hall, trying and failing to get a shot of some feathers floating through the air, but he doesn’t stop to chat. He likes Britta, but there are bigger things at stake here than a possible girlfriend.

Shirley comes to his private fort later, tells him proudly that she’s told Andre not to wait up for her and that her allegiance lies with Troy, and Troy feels both a huge rush of gratitude and a crushing wave of depression.

“Why not join Abed’s side?” he asks her, because part of him still wants to know.

“Well,” Shirley says, words coated in fake-sugary sweetness. “He hurt your feelings because he didn’t know when to stop being a robot and start being a good friend.”

“He’s not a robot,” Troy says quietly, and Shirley pats his leg.

“It’s all right, Troy. You’re allowed to be angry.”

And Troy _is_ angry, he’s _so_ angry, at everything, at _everyone_. At Abed. At Annie. At Jeff. At himself. _Especially_ at himself.

But he doesn’t have the time to think about his emotions, and how this will end, and if he and Abed will ever be ok again, and if his heart will shatter because of a dumb blanket fort. This is war, and he needs to prepare for tonight.

“You can be my second-in-command,” he decides, sitting up straight. “I need someone who knows what they’re doing.”

Shirley smiles proudly. “Oh, well, that’s nice, Troy. Thank you.”

“Someone will have to break the news to Pierce,” Troy says, shuddering. “He might not take it well.”

Shirley nods gravely, lifts her head. “My first order of business as Top General of Blanketsburg is to make Garrett be the one who dishes out any bad news to the rabble.”

Troy tries to smile. He only half-way succeeds.

At 11:55 that night, Troy sends Shirley to lead a battalion to attack the pillow forts in the library. He doesn’t go himself. He tells Garrett it’s because he has more battle plans to fine tune, especially now that Pierce has switched over to Pillowtown and might be spilling all of Blanketsburg’s ideas.

The truth is, he doesn’t want to run the risk of bumping into Abed.

Just before midnight, Neil comes on the intercom and says something soothing to calm everyone down. Troy tries to listen, but the words sound fake and like cardboard to his ears.

Then “Daybreak” comes on. Troy hates how much it makes him think of Abed, of the Dreamatorium, of the bunkbeds, of watching movies with Annie, of making cute videos of Kitten Tarantino, of when Abed’s hand would dangle over the edge of his bunk and Troy would want to reach out and touch it, of those times when, after an _Inspector Spacetime_ marathon or one of their countless rewatches of _The Cape,_ Abed would be too tired to climb up to his bed and would just fall asleep with Troy, and the space would be small, but neither of them would really mind.

He wonders, a little bleakly, if Abed is thinking the same things over on the other side.

Troy really has no idea.

The attack he sends Shirley on is kind of a bust - no territory changes hands, and Annie sends him an angry text message about the amount of people with grazed testicles she has to deal with in the infirmary. Troy doesn’t text her back.

Britta pops by with her camera to take pictures. She claims she’s neutral. She smiles at Troy a lot, sort of flirts with him while trying to get shots of the different blanket patterns. Troy doesn’t even have the energy to flirt back.

He’s not physically tired; just emotionally exhausted, and his emotions _really_ need some sleep.

There’s another skirmish by the bulletin board in the cafeteria the next day; Annie sends Troy another rant message, something about Pierce complaining of “erectile dysfunction transmitted via pillow.” She sends it to the apartment groupchat with Abed in it, the groupchat that’s been silent ever since they started building Fluffytown.

Neither of them reply to it. Annie sends a string of angry emojis, but eventually realizes she’s wasting her time and stops.

Troy just wants to go _home._ He wants all of this to be over. He wants to be with _Abed._

But they’re in a fight - and Troy’s too stubborn to back down. Because, after all, Abed hadn’t even given a shit about breaking the word record for the largest blanket fort. He had said it was dumb. But it was _cool_ \- Troy wanted it, and maybe if things had been different, he would’ve been able to let it go, but it was right after his conversation with Vice Dean Laybourne, and - he’d been angry. For once, he’d wanted to do something big on his own. Without anyone else’s name attached to it.

In retrospect, maybe listening to Laybourne wasn’t a great idea. The guy’s been trying to separate Troy from the rest of the study group all year. He’d probably say anything to get Troy at the Air Conditioning Repair School.

But maybe there had been some truth to his words after all and - ugh, Troy is so confused.

The war almost becomes like a dance for the two of them. Blanketsburg’s forces attack the northwest annex, so Pillowtown’s go for the southeast. Abed comes up with a list of rules outlining the laws of pillow fighting, so Troy comes up with a newer, better list of rules (which is really the same as Abed’s but with fancier text colors, a different font, and some clipart of pillows with smiley faces on them). Troy allies with Chang and sends the Changlorious Basterds at Abed’s troops, so Abed shoots back with Pierce and a doomsday device. They just keep going, back and forth and back and forth, and Troy wants it to end, but he doesn’t know when it will. Or if it even can.

The second afternoon, Troy’s crying in his fort. He’s not sure when he started to, or what exactly set it off, but that’s where Shirley finds him, curled up in a ball with his head in his hands.

“Troy?” she says timidly. “Sweetie, are you ok?”

“No,” Troy sobs, a little embarrassed that Shirley’s seeing him like this, but also desperate for comfort. “I’m not.”

“Oh, honey,” she murmurs, and pulls him tight against her, rubs his back in slow circles. “Shhh, shhh.”

“Sorry,” Troy rasps, voice muffled against her sweater. “I’m sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry for? He broke your heart.”

“No,” Troy says. “We broke each other’s.”

Shirley pulls back. “You miss him, don’t you?”

Troy nods. “I wish this hadn’t happened,” he says. “I wish I could get in the Inspector’s ship and travel back to two weeks ago and fix this.”

Shirley hums. “So you wouldn’t have to fight at all?”

“Yeah.” Troy wipes the back of his hand across his face, grateful Shirley can’t see much in the low lighting. “So we wouldn’t have to fight at all.”

Shirley sighs. “Troy, I’m going to tell you something, and I’m going to be completely honest; love is messy.”

“I know,” Troy says. “I’ve seen _Ruthless People._ Bette Midler _thought_ Danny DeVito was in love with her, but he only married her for her money. Sometimes the people you think love you don’t love you at all.”

Shirley shakes her head. “Honey, Abed loves you. There’s no doubt in my mind about that. But a good relationship has scars. It’s natural for humans to fight with each other; just look at our study group. We’re all best friends, but sometime we argue more than we actually get along.”

“And you know what,” she continues, matching Troy’s unsure expression with a slight stink eye. “That’s not a bad thing. A good relationship is measured by how well you bounce back from conflict, and if there’s never any conflict, then something’s wrong. I mean, Andre and I were divorced, but we were able to find forgiveness in each other, and now our love is stronger than ever. Don’t think of this as the end of your friendship with Abed; think of it as a new beginning.”

“A reboot,” Troy mumbles, because it’s what Abed would say.

Shirley smiles. “Sure.”

“I just miss him,” Troy says blankly. “I spent my whole life feeling like part of me was incomplete, and then I found Abed and I felt whole.” He pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around them. “And now I feel unfinished again.”

“Best friends have some of the strongest relationships of all,” Shirley says, nodding her head wisely, but she just doesn’t _get it._

“Shirley,” Troy says, a little fiercely. “Abed’s my best friend, but he’s more than that. He’s...he’s...”

Troy trails off, for two reasons. One, Shirley’s a very religious woman, and he has no idea how she’ll respond to this big of a plot twist. And two, Troy’s never said anything like this out loud. He’s not sure how _he’ll_ respond to it.

“Troy?”

Troy turns his head and swallows. “No. Never mind. It’s nothing.”

“Oh, _Troy,_ ” Shirley says. She looks so sad. Troy doesn’t really understand it.

“Thank you, Shirley.”

She nods. “I think whatever you do, it will all turn out all right in the end.”

“I hope so.”

But it only gets worse after that. Of course it does, because Troy dared to think it might get better.

Garrett hands him a sheet of paper.

“We intercepted this e-mail from General Nadir to his commanding officers in Pillowtown,” he says, standing at attention. “We thought you would want to read it.”

“At ease, Garrett,” Troy says, an uneasy feeling already settling in the pit of his stomach.

“Also, we owe the library 25 cents in printing fees. Should I take it out of the budget?”

Troy waves him away, looks into the middle-distance dramatically. “I don’t have time for any silly library fees, Garrett. I’ve got an evil e-mail to read.” He pauses. “But also, Chang keeps all his spare change behind the outlet plate by the stoner fort. You should get him to take it out, because I don’t think he knows that’s not the fake outlet.”

Once Garrett is gone, Troy reads the e-mail. He immediately wishes he hadn’t.

So, Abed thinks he’s insecure about his level of intelligence? And that he cries really easily? Well -

Well, he’s _right._ That’s the worst part. Abed knows Troy. He knows every part of him, even his weaknesses. And he just exposed those weaknesses to everyone in Pillowtown. Troy is definitely _not_ going to go down in battle because fucking _Star-Burns_ distracted him with something red and shiny.

And so, feeling upset and betrayed and hurt and just a little overly-impulsive (not to mention emotionally vulnerable), Troy finally sends Abed a text. He might make a few typos, because of the tears blurring his vision, but he also doesn’t really care.

**abed** 🕵🏽♂️

 **Me:** hey, Dick. read ur Dumb e-mail. REALLY enjoyed it.

**Me:** guess what? u may have been my Best Friend, but we both know i was ur FIRST friend.

**Me:** and what i know but u don’t know because u have mental issues is that ur never going to have another friend. because...

**Me:** NOBODY WILL EVER HAVE MY PATIENCE WITH U!!!!

**Me:** p.s. i didn’t like inception. well Actually i didn’t really understand it. but still!!

Troy doesn’t even feel bad about it, not really. Abed’s proven to him that there’s nothing in their friendship worth salvaging, no matter what Shirley says. It’s only fair for Troy to fight fire with fire. Even if fire means insulting his best friend.

Maybe this is ok. Maybe this means Troy can divert all of his romantic feelings toward Britta instead, and then they can start going out, and he can forget about Abed entirely, and everything will be great. Totally great. Even if he won’t be able to watch _Inspector Spacetime_ with anyone, and even if there’ll be nobody to shoot fake _Kickpuncher_ movies with anymore.

Whatever. Troy can just be best friends with Leonard, or something.

But it wouldn’t be the same, and he knows it.

That second night ( _how_ has it only been two days?), Jeff asks Troy and Abed to come to a secret summit meeting with him during the allocated _Ski, Shoot, Sing_ cease-fire. And Troy doesn’t really want to, but he’s curious to hear what Jeff has to say.

When he gets to the courtyard, he tries to ignore the way his chest aches when he sees Abed. Abed is pointedly not making eye contact with him.

“All right,” Jeff says. He’s got his lawyer voice on, which can only mean one thing: business. “This has to stop.”

“Tell _him_ that _,_ ” Abed says, still looking away from Troy.

Troy glares. “ _Me?_ What about your e-mail?”

Abed actually looks up at him then. His face is hard as stone, but his eyes look upset.

“You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“You weren’t supposed to think those things,” Troy fires back.

“Guys,” Jeff says warningly, holding his hands out. “Come on. This isn’t you! I mean, Christ, _look_ at yourselves. You didn’t used to be like this. You were _Troy and Abed._ Things used to be easy. Can’t we work something out here? I know I’m not Britta, but I’ll act as a couples therapist here if I have to. _Begrudgingly._ ”

“He’s right,” Abed says. Jeff nods proudly, like he’s accomplished something, but Troy knows better.

“Our friendship is dead,” Abed states.

“ _What,_ ” Jeff says icily.

Troy ignores him. “Yeah, I think we should agree right now that whoever wins this war can stay in the apartment. Loser has to find a new place.”

Abed nods, a quick jerk of his head. “Agreed. What about Kitten Tarantino?”

“Kitten stays wherever Annie is.”

“Fair enough.”

Troy looks at Abed for just one second before he leaves, and maybe he lets his guard down a bit. He swallows roughly, and he watches as Abed tracks the movement of his throat. They lock eyes for just a second -

And then they leave.

“Uh, I have to be honest - I wanted that to go much differently,” Troy hears Jeff say, but he does not care.

It’s official: TroyandAbed are over. Everything they’ve built up between each other over the past two and a half years has ultimately been for nothing, because they are never going to be friends again. And by the end of this war, one of them will have to say goodbye to the apartment, and the Dreamatorium, and Annie, and Kitten Tarantino, and _Harry Potter_ movie marathons, and their friendship.

He wonders if one of them will leave the study group. Maybe they both will. Maybe at the same time.

Troy should feel triumphant, like he’s got a leg up on the situation and is confidently close to gaining victory over the opposite side. Because he does and he is, and his forces can beat Pillowtown’s, he knows it.

But he doesn’t feel triumphant. He just feels... _lousy._

Maybe he should shoot a text to Magnitude and ask him if he’s interested in being Troy’s new best friend. Then again, _Troy and Magnitude in the morning_ doesn’t have the same ring to it.

Troy needs to...he needs to _do something_ with all of this pent up _rage_ inside of him. And though he is quite literally surrounded by pillows and other assorted soft and fuzzy things to punch, he thinks this is more the kind of rage that needs to be spoken out loud.

So he does something that he usually reserves only for Sunday nights. He calls his mother.

She picks up almost immediately. “Troy? Is something wrong?”

“Hey, Mom,” Troy says, settling down in his lonely pile of blankets in his lonely tent. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine, honey - you caught me in the middle of an episode of _Master Chef_ , but it’s ok, I’ll tape it if you need to talk - how are _you?_ ”

“Oh, you know,” Troy says, shifting slightly. “I’m all right.”

“Don’t BS me, Troy Barnes,” Mom says, a little sternly. “You called me for a reason.”

Troy sighs. “Sorry. It’s just - Abed and I are in a fight.”

“Oh. How come?”

“A lot of things,” Troy tells her. “A lot of things all mashed into one big thing. I probably should’ve seen it coming.”

“Well, what are you doing about it now?”

“Um. Having an all-out campus-wide pillow fight?”

It goes quiet on the other end, and Troy thinks he hears Mom say something along the lines of _That school,_ but then she asks, “Have you talked to him?”

“He doesn’t want to talk. _We_ don’t want to talk.”

“And why not?”

“It’s just...” Troy swallows. “It’s hard. I think we’ve both really hurt each other. And things are really bad right now. I’m not even sure if I still _want_ to be his friend anymore.”

“Of course you do.”

“What?” He must not have heard her right.

“Of course you do,” she repeats. “Of course you still want to be friends with Abed - he’s your best friend in the whole world. Friends fight, that’s just how it is. You’ll be fine.”

“But, Mom,” Troy pushes. “It’s _really_ bad. I mean, possibly unable-to-be-fixed bad. It’s like Abed is you and I’m - “

He breaks off. He hadn’t meant to go there.

Mom’s tone is unreadable. “Your father?”  
  
“No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Mom sighs. “Oh, baby, I’m not mad. I know your father and I...we probably messed you up pretty badly what with...what with _everything._ But you aren’t like him. Please don’t compare yourself to him. Whatever is going on between you and Abed is nothing like what happened with us. And you know how I know that?”

“How?”

“For one, both of you are much better than your father and me.”

“Mom, you’re not - “

“And we weren’t friends with each other. We were never friends. That’s something you and Abed can get away with - goofing off and messing around. When you’re married, you don’t get that liberty. All your friends and family are watching you. There’s a lot of pressure involved.” She laughs an empty laugh. “Then again, I’ve only been married once; I have nothing to compare it to.”

Troy feels such a wave of _sadness_ for his mother right then that he gets choked up. “Mom, I’m so sorry you had to go through all that. You didn’t deserve it.”

“None of us deserve anything, Troy,” she says. “That’s something I learned pretty quickly.”

Troy thinks about that. He thinks about that after his mom hangs up and he stares up at the blanketed ceiling. He thinks about that until it’s all that’s on his mind, and then he falls asleep.

Maybe that whole conversation meant nothing to Troy, because when he gets up at the crack of dawn to lead his troops to the cafeteria, he just feel _angry._ Tired, yes, and upset, sure, but very, very _angry._

He thinks that most of it is probably anger toward himself, though. Because of all those things he’d said to Abed. Because he’d fucked over their friendship so easily. Because he loves Abed, and he’s not going to be able to let him go.

Abed’s facing him with a whole armada of Pillowtown forces, armed to the teeth with ammunition, and he’s giving Troy the coldest, most determined look he’s ever seen in his life.

It doesn’t look right on him. Abed’s a guy who lives his life through TV and movies. He’s pretty happy, as far as most happy people go. This expression on his face is making Troy uneasy.

He lifts his pillow at the ready, anyway.

There’s a moment of hesitation where Troy thinks that nothing’s going to happen, and then everyone charges at everyone else, and the cafeteria erupts into complete chaotic warfare.

Troy can’t really see anything, what with all the swinging pillows and the feather flurries and the flailing limbs, but he lashes out at anything he can reach, swings blindly and hopes that he’s not hitting anyone from Blanketsburg.

He sees Chang fall to the ground. He hears Neil roar a triumphant battle-cry. He watches as Shirley, a mother of three, lunges into the crowd like a rhinoceros and takes out two Pillowtonians in one hit.

Troy thinks he might finally understand the phrase, _War is hell._

The battle feels like it goes on for hours. (Afterwards, Annie tells him it lasted about two minutes.)

The Dean dashes in, blowing their whistle, and everyone stops fighting to see what’s up. Troy’s standing right across from Abed, and he tries very hard to ignore that fact.

“Well, that’s it,” the Dean says angrily, hands planted defiantly on their hips. “I just heard from that Guiness rep who was supposed to come. He’s been fired, in what he described as the world’s biggest mistake. I _doubt_ that will make the next edition. Anyway, it’s over! You can all pack up your stupid little pillows and your stupid little blankets, because _no one’s_ breaking _any_ world records today, or tomorrow, or ever. What a colossal waste of two and a half days.”

Everyone starts to disperse, grumbling and rubbing the spots where they got hit. The Dean’s standing by the cafeteria door and ushering everyone out like a sheepdog, except bald.

And Troy and Abed are hitting each other with pillows.

They do it for a long time. _Much_ longer than two minutes, thank you very much, Annie. Troy’s not even really registering the fact that he’s doing it, and he’s not sure that Abed is, either. He knows it’s because this is all they have left, and once this ends, so does everything else.

“Come on, guys,” Jeff says wearily. “Lets just wrap this up finally, yeah?”

“I don’t want to,” Abed replies, hitting Troy’s arm.

“Me neither,” Troy says, landing one on Abed’s side.

Jeff sighs. “Why _not?_ ”

“This is gonna be the last thing we ever do together,” Abed says, and Troy nods in agreement. 

“We can’t stop,” he says. “We can’t. Not now.”

“Doesn’t that kind of solve your problem?” Jeff asks.

Troy hesitates. So does Abed.

Jeff looks at them like they’re stupid. “The realization that you like each other so much, you’d hit each other with pillows forever because you can’t let each other go?”

Troy lowers his arm. So does Abed. Troy can feel his jaw clench involuntarily. Neither of them say anything.

Finally, Abed says, “Knowing that doesn’t feel like enough anymore,” and hits Troy again.

Troy unsticks his jaw. “Yeah, Jeff. We’re grown-ups now.” He hits Abed back. “We have grown-up problems.”

“That’s _very_ clear,” Jeff drawls. “Unless...you use those magical friendship hats I gave you. They’re still around, just waiting to be put on your heads.”

“We’re not stupid, Jeffrey,” Troy tells him, and Abed nods. Somehow, this hurts Troy more than anything else, to see Abed in agreement with him, but for all the wrong reasons. “We know you made those sarcastically.”

“Yes, yes,” Jeff says, holding his hands up in front of him, and stopping them from hitting each other anymore. “And I will roll my eyes at both of you when I put them on your heads because that’s just the way I am. But that’s not the way _you_ have to be. It’s not the way you were, anyway.”

Abed glances at Troy. Troy glances at Abed. He can feel the rest of the study group watching them, Shirley and Annie and Pierce and Britta, waiting to see what happens next, like they’re some dumb soap opera with corny twists and a ton of retconning.

Troy looks back at Abed. And they seem to come to a sort of understanding. Troy takes off his blanket wreath. Abed takes off his pillow helmet.

“We might be interested,” Abed says. Troy has trouble meeting his eyes again. He feels ashamed.

Jeff looks pleased. “Ok, then.” He holds his hands out above Abed’s head. “Here’s your magical friendship hat. And...” He reaches out to Troy and does the same, but he must be stupid or something, because he’s clearly fooling nobody.

“Jeff,” Troy says.

“What?”

“You left the magical friendship hats at the Dean’s office,” Abed tells him, even though it’s totally _obvious._ He gives Troy a look like, _duh-doy,_ and Troy is all too happy to return it.

Troy can practically _hear_ the eye-roll. “ _Right._ Of course. I’ll go get them.”

Jeff leaves. Everyone else stays silent, even Pierce. Troy looks carefully up at Abed, tentatively, cautiously. And Abed -

Abed smiles at him. Troy feels like crying, but he smiles back.

He can feel it - the rift between them is already starting to heal. Maybe it’ll take a while to get all the way there, but it’s on its way. And maybe Shirley had been right about their friendship bouncing back stronger than before. He casts a glance her way. She smiles encouragingly, nods her head.

_Oh,_ Troy thinks, a weird floaty feeling rippling through him. _That’s nice._

Jeff comes back, with the real hats tucked under his arm.

He puts Abed’s on his head. “Here you go.”

He puts Troy’s on next, and it might be invisible, but it’s the comfiest thing Troy’s ever worn.

“Lucky no one grabbed them, huh?” Jeff says.

_So_ lucky. Supremely lucky.

Troy and Abed look at each other. And they grin.

Later, Britta will give them the photo she took of them doing their handshake, magical friendship hats out and proud for everyone to see, smiling at each other, Jeff grinning in between them, in a rare moment where he’ll actually let his emotions shine through. “Sorry about the waffles,” Britta will say sheepishly. “Guess I Britta’d it.” But Troy will tell her that it makes the picture look even cooler.

They’ll hang it on the wall to the left of the TV, and Troy will take it with him when he sets sail, stare at it on long nights and try not to wake LeVar up with the sound of his crying. He’ll notice, when he’s not looking at Photo!Abed, that Photo!Troy looks really happy. Probably the happiest Troy has ever seen himself look in any picture of himself.

But no matter what happens in the future, Troy is here now with his arm over Abed’s shoulders, Abed talking excitedly about how _The Avengers_ is going to come out in a few weeks, and how they _have_ to make Annie come with them, and Troy is only listening a little bit as he watches Abed happily and thinks about what his mom said and thinks about what Shirley said and ignores the carnage all around them and -

“I love you,” he tells Abed, no longer afraid of what will come next.

Abed smiles and says, “ _Inspector Spacetime_ in the Dreamatorium when we get home?”

Troy nods excitedly. “We should get Kitten Tarantino to be the Blorgon general!”

“Oh, I can _definitely_ see her in that role,” Abed says. “Seeing as she already loves to scratch me, she won’t need much encouraging.”

And Troy feels like he’s walking on clouds the whole way home.

**4.**

After all that, a lot of things start to happen very quickly, all one after the other, to the point where Troy can barely keep up with it all.

First of all, Abed almost gets sent to a mental institution by some shady not-psychologist, and that terrifies Troy to the bone for the few minutes he thought it was going to happen.

Then, Troy has to start going to the Air Conditioning Repair School, which really _sucks_ while he’s doing it, because Vice Dean Laybourne gets _murdered_ and Troy has to try and avenge his death, or whatever. And once he finally gets out of there (and once the whole murder thing has been dealt with), he has to promise all the AC guys that he’ll always be there if they ever need the Truest Repairman. So then Troy starts getting a ton of repair gigs all over town, and that’s not exactly bad, and the pay is definitely good, but every time he shows up somewhere, whoever hired him on bows when they open the door and then stares at him the whole time while he works. Abed thinks it’s cool. Troy thinks it’s _creepy._

And _then,_ Chang takes over the school and they all have to go in and put a stop to him, and honestly, why were they ever surprised that he tried to pull something like this? It’s freakin’ _Chang._ The dude’s crazy, that’s been established _many times._

And then Troy starts dating Britta.

He guesses he shouldn’t really be surprised by it. They’d sort of been flitting around each other in a will-they-won’t-they dance for the whole of junior year, enough for Abed to remark that they were like Marianne and Matt from _Cougarton Abbey_ and for Annie to gush that they were like Jim and Pam from _The Office._

(Troy never agreed with them. Those romances are too epic for him and Britta. Well, actually, Marianne and Matt are really melodramatic and kind of frustrating to watch, even if it’s only for six episodes, and Jim and Pam are cute, but they’re a little bit boring. Troy would never tell that to Annie, though. Or to Abed, who’s still holding out for _Cougarton Abbey_ season two.)

So now they’re actually going out. And Troy would like to say it’s nice. He’d like to say that he’s enjoying it and that he’s really happy with Britta.

But they’re just too _different_ from each other. Troy loves being friends with Britta, even if she can be kind of scarily gung-ho about political stuff. And he knows that Britta thinks his nerd thing is cute, because she’s told him so. It’s just that, Troy doesn’t really want to go to any protests about cockroach cruelty, and Britta flat-out _despised Inspector Spacetime_ the one time Troy tried to get her to watch it with him.

Abed would have wanted to watch _Inspector Spacetime._ Abed would want to roleplay in the Dreamatorium with Troy. Abed wouldn’t make Troy try vegan mac and cheese (totally disgusting and tastes nothing like the real thing, just for the record).

So it’s through this and Troy’s complete lack of enthusiasm when it comes to sex with Britta that he realizes that he’s gay.

It’s a little late, he knows, figuring this out now that he’s dating a woman. But he’s pretty sure some part of him always knew, and was just too afraid to do anything about it. So even though he knew he was in love with Abed, he tried to convince himself that he still liked girls, and he’d asked Britta out to prove it. And also maybe to distract himself from the fact that his feelings for Abed flat-out refuse to go away, and he’s told Abed that he loves him twice now, and Abed doesn’t get it.

Troy knows it’s not fair to Britta to keep leading her on. He knows it’s not fair to her to keep going to Señor Kevin’s with her, to keep inviting her to apartment movie nights, and to fall asleep in the same bed with her. But he hasn’t found the right way to do anything about it yet. And he’s also afraid of how she’ll react when he tells her.

It’s really hard though, lying in bed with Britta tucked into his chest and Troy looking at her blonde hair and feeling her soft skin against his own and wishing that it were Abed instead.

It’s weird that Troy misses him, because he sees him every day. He sees Abed more than he _doesn’t_ see him. But it’s just a fact: Troy _misses_ Abed.

So in a (surprisingly) rare moment where Britta is at work, Annie is at the store, and Troy’s holding Abed’s hand while they watch reruns of _Scrubs,_ Troy senses the chance and seizes it.

“You know, Turk and JD are pretty good friends,” Abed says. “But I think we’ve got them beat.”

“Abed,” Troy says. “I need to tell you something.”

Abed mutes the TV, because Abed doesn’t believe in the pause button if it’s a rewatch. He turns to face Troy, but he doesn’t let go of his hand. “Is this a coming out scene?”

Troy stares at him. “Oh thank fuck,” he says, pitching forward and burying his face into Abed’s shoulder. “ _Thank fuck._ ”

Abed pats his back. “Yeah, that’s what I figured. Do you still want to say it, though?”

“Yeah.” Troy leans back. “Abed. I’m gay.”

Abed raises his eyebrows and hums. “Hm. I can see this definitely posing a problem in terms of your relationship with Britta.”

“I know,” Troy says, grimacing. “She’s going to kill me.”

Abed cocks his head to the side. “I don’t think so. I know Britta made such a huge deal of being a good ally that one time, but this is something you can’t control, Troy. Britta may be a bit clueless sometimes, but she’ll understand that.”

“I hope so.” Troy sighs. “I don’t know how I’m going to tell her.”

“I’m sure we can figure something out,” Abed says. “Hey, you know, tomorrow’s the third-year anniversary of us watching _Freaky Friday_ for the first time.”

Troy smiles, remembering back in freshman year when he had still been reluctant to make friends with Abed, and was trying to convince himself that he was only hanging out with him because he felt sorry for him. “I know. I’m so ready for our body-switching movie marathon.”

Abed frowns, like he’s thinking. “Body-switching...” He snaps his fingers, and his face lights up. “What if we pulled a _Freaky Friday?_ ”

“Huh?”

“What if we body-swapped for a day, and I could break up with Britta for you?”

Troy’s pulse starts racing. “So, you’d be in my body and I’d be in yours, and me-as-you would go out with Britta and talk to her about everything?”

Abed nods. “Exactly. And you-as-me could stay safely out of the way and maybe mess around with Jeff some.”

Troy beams. “Abed, you’re a genius.”

Abed winks, clicks his teeth. “I do my best. So. Deal?”

They do their handshake. “Deal.”

Annie bursts in just as Abed is about to unmute _Scrubs,_ arms full of shopping bags which she unceremoniously dumps onto the counter, scaring Kitten Tarantino, who’d been napping there.

“Guys,” she says, racing over to them and completely out of breath. “I just ran back fromPublix.”

“We can see that,” Troy says. “Why?”

Annie stops to take a big gulp of air. “Well, I was trying to find the right brand of milk for Special Drink,” Abed gives her a double thumbs up. “And I was standing there in the dairy section, and there was this guy on one of the milk cartons, and he had this big speech bubble coming out of his mouth that said _I udderly adore Lake Farms milk!,_ and I guess he was supposed to be attractive and eye-catching, and I thought to myself, _Wow, he’s really hot,_ and then I thought, _Wait, he’s a milk carton model. Am I really lusting after a punny_ milk-carton model? And then I realized that I’m so _over_ pretending I’m something I’m not, and maintaining this lie I’ve been telling myself my entire life, and I decided that I’m _better_ than thinking dairy models are sexy, because they _aren’t_ sexy, and so I rushed out of there and paid for everything as fast as I could and I ran back here, and basically - “

She breaks off, huffs and puffs a couple of times. “ _Wow,_ that really took a lot out of me.”

“Basically _what,_ Annie?!” Troy demands, because he hates cliff-hangers. “Basically _what_?!”

Annie nods, composes herself. “So I ran back here to tell you guys what I’ve never told anyone but have needed to say my whole life: I’m a lesbian.”

Troy’s brain short-circuits.

Abed just says, “Two coming out scenes in one episode? I hope that’s not pushing it.”

Troy says, “ _What._ ”

Annie says, “ _Two_ coming out scenes? Who - _Troy?!”_

Troy says, “ _WHAT._ ”

After a few moments of mass hysteria, confusion, and general panic, Annie calms down enough to say, “I’m sorry I didn’t know, Troy! I guess I don’t have very good gay-dar. But I thought you liked Britta?”

“I thought _you_ liked _Jeff!_ ”

“Touché,” Annie says. “Wait, how are you going to tell Britta?”

“Don’t worry,” Troy says. “Abed and I have a plan for that. You’ll see.”

Annie looks skeptical. “Ok...”

“Well, anyway,” Abed says. “Despite the inevitable amount of critics who will whine about audience pandering, I think this makes a lot of sense. Studies show that LGBT people tend to gravitate toward each other and group together without even realizing it. So I guess that’s what happened here.”

“Yeah,” Troy says, still shaking off his surprise. “I guess so.”

“Well, thank you guys for being so understanding,” Annie says, smiling, and looking just a little bit misty-eyed. “I’ve never said that out loud before.”

Troy smiles. “Of course. You’re our friend. We weren’t going to hate you or anything.”

“I know,” Annie says, crying freely now. “I’m just so happy I know you guys.”

And of course, because Annie’s crying, Troy starts crying, too. “Aw, man, me too.”

“Group hug?” Abed asks, looking at Troy. He turns to Annie. “Group hug?”

Neither of them decline.

“Annie,” Abed says, face pressed into Troy’s shoulder. “You _did_ buy milk, right?”

“...”

“ _Annie._ You had _one_ job.”

Troy starts to get cold feet almost immediately. He’s sitting at the table in the study room and Abed keeps looking at him conspiratorially and then Shirley says,

“Speaking of tomorrow, Troy and Brittaaa, have you decided what you’re gonna do for your one-year anniversary?”

Troy frowns. He glances over at Britta. She shrugs. “Of?”

Annie frowns. “Your first date?”

“Oh!” Troy exclaims, and just like that he feels even more terrible about what he’s going to do.

Breaking up with Britta on their _anniversary?_ Oh God, Troy’s a horrible person, isn’t he? _Isn’t he?!_

He grabs for Abed’s hand underneath the table. Abed winds his finger between Troy’s with ease.

“Well, you guys should do something romantic!” Shirley grins. “Right?”

“Uhhh,” Britta says. She looks at Troy and shrugs. “Señor Kevin’s?”

“Sure,” he says, trying to ignore the pointed and not-as-sneaky-as-she-thinks face that Annie is making.

“Yeah,” Britta says, smiling in a way Troy knows means she’s insanely uncomfortable with the situation. “Ok. Sounds good.”

“Anyway,” Troy says. “Speaking of anniversaries, it’s the third anniversary of me and Abed watching _Freaky Friday_ for the first time.”

He presents Abed with his stack of body-switching movies (plus the stale Raisinets).

Abed looks through the stack (throwing out _Vice Versa,_ which Troy totally understands), grinning more and more as he goes. He and Troy had rehearsed how this whole bit would go down the night before, but Abed’s smile here looks genuinely unscripted. It makes Troy feel all warm and fuzzy.

“ _Freaky Friday,_ ” Abed says. He turns to Troy. “Oh, Troy. You are _sooooo_ thoughtful. I _wish_ I had the capacity for sentimentality like you do.”

Troy stands. “ _Me?_ I wish I was more like _you!_ No emotional hang-ups, endless cool adventures,” He grins. “The coolest best friend in the world. You have it so easy.”

Abed gets up, too. “No, you do, Troy.”

“No, _you_ do, Abed.”

Abed holds out the DVD, and Troy grabs hold of it. “I wish I could switch places with you for Just! One! Day!”

“What the hell are you two doing?” Pierce asks.

Troy frowns. “I thought that would work.”

Abed hums. “Weird. Stuff like this usually does.”

“Yeah,” Jeff says, rolling his eyes. “We’re all _floored_ it didn’t.”

Abed grins at Troy. Troy tries to grin back, but he looks at Britta and just feels sick to his stomach.

“ _Really?_ ” Annie hisses at them. “This _was your plan?”_

Troy wakes up the next morning, and he can feel it - he’s not himself. The body-switch worked. He’s Abed.

Or, at least, he’s Abed for as long as he needs to be. Just for today.

“Good morning!” Britta says, leaning over and kissing Troy on the cheek. “And, um...happy one-year anniversary.”

“Yes,” Troy says. “That would be this day.”

Britta gives him a weird look. “Look, I know that it was awkward with Annie and Shirley in the study room yesterday. Yeah, we didn’t remember, but...I mean, big deal, right? Everyone’s relationships are different. As long as we’re having fun, it’s ok, right?”

Troy feels a small twinge of guilt deep in his gut, but he knows there’s nothing he can do about it. He’s already switched bodies with Abed. There’s no going back now.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he says.

“Yeah,” Britta says. “ _Super_ looking forward to it. I’m just saying...”

She stares at Troy. “Hey, Troy? You feeling ok?”

“Excuse me,” Troy says, and gets out of bed and leaves the room. He goes across the hall, hides himself in Abed’s room, away from Britta and any talk of their anniversary date. Abed’s still got the bunk beds; Troy feels a burst of nostalgia when he sees them. He wishes he never moved into the Dreamatorium. It ruined a perfectly good living situation _and_ a perfectly good roleplaying dreamscape.

“Hey, buddy, wake up!” he whisper-shouts. Abed sits up immediately; Troy gets the feeling he was already awake and waiting for him.

“Remember yesterday when we faked a body switch and it didn’t work? Well, now it’s actually worked.”

Abed slides out of the top bunk, frowning. “So you’re saying that right now...”

“I’m you, and you’re me. Just like in _Freaky Friday._ ”

Abed stares at himself in the mirror. “Oh my God. This is wrinkling my brain! And of all the days! I got my big, important meeting with my study group, _and_ my one-year anniversary date with my girlfriend!”

Troy nods, feeling a little nervous. He knows Abed’s more than capable of working out this whole Britta thing, he just feels _weird_ about it.

“Oh, boy,” Troy says. “Here goes nothing.” He’s not sure if it’s him or Abed talking.

When they get to the study room, Troy makes sure to sit in Abed’s usual seat, and Abed does the same in Troy’s. Pierce looks confused; Britta looks surprised, but happy, like Troy and Abed switched seats on purpose so Troy could sit with Britta on their anniversary.

Another pang of guilt goes off in Troy’s gut. He tries to ignore it.

Troy stares at Abed, quickly switches chairs with him again. “Whoa! That was weird.”

“We didn’t mean to do that,” Abed says, pretending to be Troy pretending to be Abed, which hurts Troy’s head a little but is also super cool. “We know exactly where we sit.”

“Uhhh, what’s going on with you guys?” Annie asks. “You were acting really... _odd_ this morning at breakfast.”

“Yeah,” Britta says. “This is really weird.”

“Oh, thank God you noticed,” Troy and Abed say together.

Abed leans forward. “Remember when we pretended to switch bodies yesterday like in any body-switching movie _other_ than the one with Judge Reinhold in it?”

“Unfortunately, yes, dorks,” Jeff says, crossing his arms.

“Well, it really happened,” Troy says. “I’m actually Abed.”

“And I’m actually Troy.”

Jeff rolls his eyes. “All right, I don’t care who’s who. I just care that we’re all here, and we can get this stupid project done in a relatively doable amount of time.”

Troy nods. “Wish we could help, Jeff, but in order to switch back, we have to recreate the exact moment that we switched the first time. But the DVD is missing, and we need that.”

“Of _course_ it is,” Jeff deadpans.

“So now I have to find it,” Troy continues. “While Troy goes on an anniversary date with Britta.”

“Wait, what?” Britta says, but Troy and Abed are already leaving.

“Here’s a fun sci-fi idea,” they hear Jeff yell as they walk out. “Troy makes a banner as Troy and Abed makes a banner as Abed and we’ll be done with this thing within the hour!”

They don’t listen to him.

“Hey,” Troy says out-of-character, once they’re safely away from the study room. “Thanks for doing this.”

Abed frowns. Troy’s pretty sure he’s still pretending to be him. “Doing what?”

Troy smiles.

“Wait, Troy!” Britta yells. Troy quickly composes himself.

“I’m Abed.”

Britta looks pained. “Right. ‘Troy,’ could you please excuse us?”

Once Abed is gone, Britta crosses her arms and fixes Troy with that face she does where she almost glares, except she doesn’t really. It’s like a half-way point between her normal face and her scowl. A...norscowl? Scowlmal?

Something like that.

“You were being weird this morning, and now you’re being even more weird,” Britta says. “Do you still _want_ to go on our date tonight, or would you rather hang out with Abed all day? Which you _already do all the time?_ ”

“Actually, he’s kind of going through some stuff. I don’t know if stopping this would be a good idea,” Troy tells her.

Britta frowns. “Oh. Is he having personal issues that he’s not sure how to deal with?”

Troy nods, feeling relieved that she seems to understand. “Yeah. He kind of needs this, so he’s really laying into it. For comfort. It makes him feel better.”

Britta’s face lights up. “So he might need an almost therapist?” She uncrosses her arms. “Maybe I’ll have a session with him. You know, after my date with...Troy.”

Troy says nothing. Britta claps her hands together. “See you later, _Abed,_ ” she says.

“Abed?” Abed says. “I think she wants to use her weird therapist powers on you instead of me.”

“Yeah,” Troy says. “I don’t think she understood what I was telling her.”

Abed hums. “Do you think I’ll run into that guy who really hates _Die Hard_ on our date?”

“If you do, tell him Abed thinks he’s a moron,” Troy says. “That guy has no business going around hating the best Christmas movie of all time.”

“Don’t you mean the best winter-movie-set-during-a-holiday-we-don’t-celebrate of all time?”

Troy shoots him a finger gun. “Pow.”

When Abed leaves for his lunch date with Britta, Troy hugs him and tells him, “Good luck.” Abed hugs him back, putting his head on Troy’s shoulder like Troy would normally do to him, and they stay like that long enough for Star-Burns to make a passing gay joke and for Britta to clear her throat awkwardly.

“Bye, Abed,” he says, walking over to Britta and taking her hand. She looks confused, but she goes along with it. Probably because she wouldn’t know what to do otherwise.

“See you, Troy,” Troy responds, and tries not to feel _too_ sick to his stomach as he watches them leave.

He doesn’t spend much time as Abed pretending to be Troy (which is really difficult and totally _wrinkling_ Troy’s _brain_ ) before Jeff comes up to him, rolls his eyes, and shoves an obviously just-bought copy of _Freaky Friday_ in his face. Like, he didn’t even bother to take the plastic wrap off. And on top of that -

“Nice try,” Troy says. “That’s the remake. In the original, the mom and daughter say, ‘I wish I could switch places with you for just one day,’ and then they do. That’s what Troy and I did. In the remake, there’s a magic fortune cookie.”

Jeff throws the DVD to the side, narrowly avoiding hitting a student sitting on the bench.

“Why don’t I pitch you a _remake_ of a remake where my mouth tells you to drop the act. Abed isn’t even _here_ right now. He’s on a date with _your_ girlfriend on _your_ anniversary. So cut it out, give me the DVD, and we’ll go tell Abed you’re switching back to your own bodies. Then we can go back and make _doable_ and _passable_ banners for our dumb history project.”

“First, that’s a terrible idea for a movie,” Troy says. Jeff glares. “Second, I understand why you’re frustrated. It’s in your nature, but this is happening. This _happened._ So, unless we find that DVD, Troy and I can’t - “

Jeff exhales. “Oh, no, let’s go find this fucking DVD,” he growls. “By all means, let’s waste _more_ of my life.”

The janitors show them to the Greendale Lost and Found. Jeff complains the whole way there, and keeps doing it once they start looking. Troy feels a little bit bad for wasting his time. He’d like to tell Jeff the truth. He’d like to tell Jeff that the DVD is back home at the apartment, shoved under Troy’s bed, and Troy’s going to remember this fact at just the right moment, once Abed and Britta’s date is over and everything’s ok again. He’d like to tell Jeff the truth; that he’s gay and in love with Abed, and he isn’t sure how to tell his girlfriend any of it.

But he can’t tell Jeff these things, and he doesn’t, because Jeff will probably just scoff at him and tell him to go to Britta and apologize.

“Troy. Troy. _Troy._ ”

He snaps out of his thoughts. “I’m Abed.”

Jeff grits his teeth. “You’re _not_ Abed, and this is dumb. The DVD is not in here. Why are you so committed to this bit? If you’re really a friend to Abed, to me, then you’ll end it now.”

Troy is Abed’s friend. Doing this doesn’t prove otherwise. And he _needs_ this. He needs to pretend to be someone he’s not, so he doesn’t have to deal with the problems he actually has. 

None of Troy’s old football friends would have body-switched with him.

“Sorry,” Troy says. “But I have to keep going. For Troy. You don’t have to dig through all this stuff if you don’t want to. I’ll do it myself. I know it isn’t your problem.”

Troy turns his back to Jeff, starts looking through the things on the shelves. Bent and faded Yu-Gi-Oh cards, creepy old baby dolls, a dusty trophy with an inscription that says, _Honorable Mention - Colorado Community College Quidditch Tournament, 2007._ But no _Freaky Friday_ DVD. Troy knows he won’t find it, but he looks anyway.

“I’m just glad I’m here and not in Troy’s shoes,” he says, poking at a stuffed animal version of the Human Being, something uncomfortably resembling blood staining it’s white body. “This is the sweeter end of the deal. He still has to go on his big date with Britta.”

He can hear Jeff starting to leave. So in a last-minute effort to try and get something, _anything_ across to him, he says,

“I don’t understand this whole relationship thing. Or why Troy would even want to be in one. Considering...everything.”

Jeff pauses. “What do you mean, _everything?_ ”

Troy continues to make his way through the shelves, purposefully facing away from Jeff. “Troy talks to me a lot about his relationship with Britta. It used to be good things, but lately, like in the past couple of months or so, it hasn’t been as good. He says that their relationship feels different than it did a year ago, and like they’re trying too hard to make it something it’s not. It should be easy, but he says it isn’t.”

“So Troy doesn’t like Britta anymore?”

“Of course he likes her,” Troy says. “Just...as a friend. Like they used to be. He keeps going through the motions with her, trying to make their relationship work, because he’s afraid that if he doesn’t do that, it just ends. But if it does end, then what happens? What if they’re not friends anymore?”

Troy swallows. “He’d hate that. He’d hate himself. So he’s here, at this point, not knowing how to talk to Britta. Not knowing how to tell her that he wants to break up. Not knowing how - “ Troy steadies himself. “How to tell her that he’s gay.”

Jeff stays silent for a moment. Troy can feel his insides squirm. And then Jeff says, in one long and heavy breath,

“ _Oh._ ”

Troy turns around. Jeff is just sort of standing there, _staring_ at him, and Troy isn’t sure how exactly he should react. Jeff’s face is totally unreadable. Troy has no clue what he’s thinking, and it scares him.

Maybe this was a mistake.

“I’m sorry, Jeff. I shouldn’t have made you come down here. I’ve been wasting your time.”

“Troy - “

“Especially for a bit. I know you don’t respect them.”

Troy shoulders past him for the door. He should probably just go home and get the stupid DVD.

“That’s true,” Jeff says. “They’re dumb, and I’ll always stand by that. But committing to them isn’t.”

Troy turns back around.

Jeff’s face looks weird. Like he’s happy, but not? And also like he’s very serious? Troy has no idea what it means. It’s like looking at a Picasso painting, but if he told Jeff that, Jeff would probably kill him.

“I wish I had enough courage to commit to a bit like you do, Abed, or to a relationship, like Troy.” Jeff’s jaw clenches. “Committing is hard. Because I think we’re all scared of what will happen if we find out that we accidentally committed to the wrong thing.”

And with a jolt, Troy realizes that Jeff might know more about him and Abed than Troy’s given him credit for.

“But there’s no shame in what Troy’s done,” Jeff says. “He put himself out there, he took the risk, and he really tried. And that proves he cares. About Britta, about you, about all of it.”

Troy can feel something trickling throughout his body. It’s not quite relief, but it’s something pretty close to it.

“That said,” Jeff continues, stepping closer to Troy. “As hard as it may seem, right now Troy needs go out and _show_ that he cares. That proves he’s a man.”

Troy really hopes that Jeff can’t tell he’s close to crying. That’s not something Abed would do.

“Thanks, Jeff,” he says quietly. “I think Troy would be really happy to hear those things.”

“That’s good to hear.” Jeff points at him. “Now: Señor Kevin’s?”

Troy nods. “Troy needs me. We have to switch back. But we’ll have to stop by the apartment first, because that’s where the DVD is.”

“Of _course_ it’s there.”

When they get to the restaurant, Troy’s intestines are flopping around all gross and slimy. But Jeff just nods at him, and Troy nods back, because he knows this is the right thing to do.

The owner who hates _Die Hard_ tries to seat them somewhere, but Troy walks right past him (even though the real Abed would totally get in a fight with him right now, and Troy probably would, too, but he’s got bigger things to worry about) toward the table where Britta and Abed are.

Britta looks upset. Abed must have told her the news. Troy hesitates, but Jeff pushes him forward.

“Go,” he says. “You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Troy goes. “Troy, wait,” he says. Abed and Britta turn to look at him. “Don’t do it like this. I understand why you had to go high concept, because you’re really scared, but Britta deserves better than that.”

Abed looks at him, asking him silently if he’s sure.

Troy nods. “It’s time.”

Abed looks at Britta, and gets up. He grabs the end of the DVD, his fingers just brushing Troy’s, lightly, reassuringly.

“I wish I had my own body back!”

He knows it’s pretend, but Troy swears he can feel it. He can actually feel Abed move from one body to the other, can feel himself coming back.

Troy’s back in his own body, and now he needs to clean up his mess. He sits carefully in Abed’s empty chair and forces himself to look Britta in the eyes.

“First, the easiest part, because it’s the most obvious: I’m sorry,” he tells her. “I should have talked to you instead of having Abed do it for me, I know, I was just...I _am_ scared. I feel really bad, especially because it’s our anniversary and all.” He clears his throat.

Britta is looking at him sadly, but she isn’t mad. That’s probably a good sign, right?

  
“I care about you so much,” Troy says. “I love being around you. You’re so funny, and smart, and nice, and I love that we see each other every day. I just think I’m better as your friend, because that I _know_ I can be good at.”

She nods slowly. “I understand.”

He swallows. “I’m _really_ sorry, Britta. I shouldn’t have even let you date me in the first place, because the truth is...”

_Deep breath._

“I’m gay.”

Britta’s lips part in surprise. But then she nods again. “Thank you for telling me.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad? You can’t choose what you are. And as long as we can still be friends, I think I’ll be ok.”

Troy smiles at her. “Thank you.”

She smiles back, weakly, but genuine. “Thank you.”

“Hey,” Troy says. “Do you want to get out of here? I think Jeff’s going to freak out if we don’t get back and start making those banners soon, and you know Annie and Shirley have been busy all day. Nothing’s been done.”

She stands. “Let’s go. We’ll have to get Abed away from that guy who really hates _Die Hard,_ though. Can you believe that? Who hates _Die Hard?_ ”

“I know, right?”

Troy hangs at the back of the group with Abed as they all walk back to the study room. Annie and Shirley are debating over the valedictorian spot, Jeff is texting while walking, and despite the long day, Troy’s never felt more at home.

“Thanks for everything you did for me today,” he tells Abed. “I’m sorry I dragged you into it. It was my problem to deal with, not yours. I shouldn’t have made you break up with my girlfriend for me, even if we _did_ get to switch bodies.”

Abed shrugs. “It’s the best way someone’s ever woken me up in my life.”

“It was the best way I’ve ever woken someone up in my life,” Troy says. “We should do it again sometime.”

Abed shoots him a finger gun. “Great idea.”

Troy smiles at him. “I love you,” he says. He doesn’t really know if Abed will get what he means or not. He might. But probably not.

Abed blinks. “Cool. Cool cool cool.”

They do their handshake. Troy tries to ignore the sad way he feels because Abed didn’t say it back.

But Troy smiles. He smiles because of how much he loves Abed. He smiles when he finds out Pierce did their whole project for them. He smiles when Britta takes him aside as everyone’s leaving and grins at him, pulls him into one of the best hugs he’s ever had in his life.

Today was rough. But tomorrow will be better.

**5.**

Even though Troy’s out of the closet, even though Troy isn’t dating Britta anymore, even though he’s still spending all his time with Abed and even though he’s in love with him, nothing’s really happened. They haven’t acknowledged anything. They haven’t even talked about why Troy keeps telling Abed he loves him. Last Troy knew, Abed had a thing for that geeky girl at coat check. She seemed nice enough, but Troy couldn’t help feeling extremely jealous.

To be fair, Troy doesn’t know if Abed returns his feelings for him. He really hopes he does, because Troy has so much love for him that he just doesn’t know what to do with. Abed is the perfect best friend for Troy - he’s helped him with a lot. He helped him lose the dumb jock mask and start living his real life. Troy loves him so much, and he’s scared that if Abed ever told him he didn’t love him that way, Troy might die.

Or maybe just cry a lot. Probably just cry a lot.

By this point, Troy has told Abed that he loves him three different times: at the Valentine’s Day dance, after the pillow fight, and after they switched back to their own bodies. Three times now Troy’s told him how he feels, and Abed has never said it back. Not even once.

Best case scenario: he thinks that Troy is just saying he loves him like a friend. This isn’t necessarily what Troy’s been going for, but it’s not a bad thing for Abed to think. 

Worst case scenario: Abed knows that Troy loves him, is _in_ love with him, and he doesn’t feel the same so he hasn’t brought it up. Maybe he’s getting really sick of Troy saying it. Maybe it makes him feel uncomfortable.

But no. Abed would have told Troy if he didn’t like it. And he hasn’t told him anything like that. He’s just...not said anything, to be honest.

Troy doesn’t really understand it. It makes him feel really sad, so he tries not to think about it.

Naturally, he thinks about it a lot.

At least people have been generally accepting of Troy’s gayness. He’d never really told Shirley; he’s pretty sure she just figured it out on her own and hasn’t mentioned it for fear of an argument. And that sucks, but if that’s the way it has to be for Troy to still be able to hang out with her, then that’s how it’ll be.

He hasn’t told his parents. He hasn’t really seen either of them in at least a year. Mom he visited on her birthday, and Dad he went out to brunch with once, with his girlfriend, Eva, and it had been really awkward, and Dad had asked a lot of questions about Greendale and how Troy’s grades were, and it had been weird.

Troy’s not that afraid of telling his mom. Only a little bit. Maybe more. He’s not really sure. But he knows that coming out to Dad is off the table. That would be really messy, and Troy wouldn’t know how to clean it up. And he’d cry a lot.

And he was never really gonna tell Pierce, because Pierce is _weird_ about that sort of thing and would make a lot of jokes and say a lot of things that would make Britta and Annie scoff, but he probably wouldn’t have been outright _mean_ to Troy about it. He’d just say something offensive about Troy trying to creep on him when they were living together. So Troy was never going to tell Pierce, but he wasn’t going to stop him from knowing.

That doesn’t matter now, though, because Pierce is dead, and he left Troy everything.

Or, he’s _going_ to leave Troy everything. Once Troy goes on this sailing trip, he’ll be rolling in dough.

He can’t lie: he’s excited to do this. To go out on the open sea. Get out of Greendale, get out of Colorado. Troy’s never been outside of the country before. Hell, he’s only left the state a handful of times, to visit his cousins in Atlanta. This will be a whole new experience for him, a chance for him to discover himself and man up, which is what Pierce was always telling him to do.

The money doesn’t hurt matters, either.

But Troy’s also really, really not ready to do this. He’s lived in Colorado his entire life, and now he’s just going to pack up and leave it all behind to sail around the world. He’ll be leaving his mom, his friends, the study group, Kitten Tarantino...

Abed.

He’d wanted to invite him. Troy had really wanted to ask Abed to come with him on his trip. But he never did, because he knows that Abed wants to focus on his movies, and Troy wants him to do what he loves. He would never try and stop Abed from getting to his dreams, and he knows Abed would do the same for him. So Abed coming with him would be out of the question.

Plus, Troy asked that guy who had a bigger forehead than Jeff that read out Pierce’s will about it, and he said that Pierce made it clear that only Troy and his mystery sailing companion could go, or else Troy will lose the money.

Pierce probably did that on purpose, the old bastard. One last freaky mind game, making sure that Troy’s on his own with no one else from the study group. But maybe Troy does need some time to himself, away from his friends, to discover himself and figure things out.

He just really doesn’t want to leave Abed. And Abed really doesn’t want Troy to go, either.

Which is why they’re both currently standing on chairs in the middle of the biggest game of Hot Lava ever.

“Are you having fun?” Abed asks, as they inchworm down the hall, on the look-out for others.

Troy grins at him. “I’m having so much fun I think my brain’s going to melt. This is the coolest going away present ever, Abed.”

Abed swallows and looks away. “Right. Yeah.”

Troy frowns. He pauses, stands up, cracks his back because inchworming is surprisingly uncomfortable. Like, how do the little guys do this their _whole lives_ without having to see a chiropractor every week?  
  
“What’s wrong?” he asks.

Abed stands too. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just happy that you like the game.”

Troy blinks. “Um, ok. It just seemed like you - “

Abed holds up his hand. “Wait. Do you hear that?”

Troy stops and listens. Down the hall and around the corner -

“Locker boys,” he and Abed say at the same time.

Abed nods. “Let’s go.”

They find Jeff and Annie, along with Britta, surrounded by Chang and his boys. Jeff and Annie are looking wildly around, fists up and ready to fight, but still pretty cornered all the same. Britta just looks annoyed.

“Stand down or meet your doom, Chang,” Abed says, which sounds _super_ cool.

“ _Nice,_ ” Troy whispers to him.

“ _Thanks._ ”

Chang scoffs at them. “You’re in no position to make threats, floor strider. My locker boys can take you out like that.” He snaps his fingers for emphasis.

“You’re forgetting the truce we made,” Troy says. “Now, let them free, or else.”

“Our truce ended when you banished us from the pay phone bench,” Chang says. “Or did you forget because you were too busy making out with each other?”

“Chang, that is like, _really_ homophobic!”

“Oh, shut it, Britta!”

“We banished you from the bench because you used it to upset the balance,” Troy tells him. “By the Vapors of Magmarath, we will restore it.”

Britta looks at Troy like he’s insane. “You have _gods?_ ”

“Locker boys!” Chang shrieks. “Earn your M&Ms! Take them out!”

Troy and Abed spin their brooms through the air as intimidatingly as it’s possible to spin brooms through the air. The advancing locker boys scream and crawl back into the steel depths from whence they came.

“I guess that actually looked the way it did in my head,” Troy says. He looks to Abed, smiling, but Abed is staring behind them, where the coolest and yet most terrifying machine Troy has ever seen is rounding the corner.

“Hiya, kids,” Hickey says, grinning wickedly. “I’m criminology professor, Buzz Hickey.”

“ _Obviously we know that, idiot,_ ” Troy hears Jeff mutter under his breath.

“And this?” Hickey says, patting the side of his metal monstrosity. “This is just a little something I threw together.”

“Abed, come on!” Troy yells, inchworming to the side as Hickey starts to advance. Troy makes a mental note that he’s totally gonna have to try out a fire extinguisher-propelled car with Abed sometime, though.

Then he remembers that he won’t get to.

Troy slams a chair down next to Britta, who’s struggling to get out of the way.

“Jump!”

She makes it.

“Come on, centipede! Centipede!”

“Okay!” Britta says. “I still think this is dumb and that we should all talk this out instead of mindlessly pushing each other into fake lava, but ok!”

“Jeff, Annie, get to Shirley Island! We’ll meet you there!” Abed says.

“Abed, save yourself!” Troy shouts, as Hickey starts to makes his way back around.

“Abed!” Britta yells. She doesn’t pass the next chair to Troy, and he has to elbow her to get her to keep going. “ _Ow!_ Listen, Abed, before Troy ‘dies in lava,’ you can save yourself emotionally by honestly experiencing the pain of him leaving Greendale instead of making a huge survival game out of it!”

Abed seems to hesitate, just for a second. He locks eyes with Troy. Troy nods.

“We can do this in three steps,” Abed says. “Britta, jump to that trash can.”

She does.

“Troy, start inchworming.”

Troy starts to make his way toward Abed. Britta reaches her hand out, makes a grab for his hoodie sleeve and misses.

“Wait, what’s the third step? What do I do now?” She sounds panicked. Troy almost feels bad about what they’re about to do to her. Almost.

“Third step’s survival,” Abed says, turning away. “Good luck, Britta.”

“Seriously?! _Troy!_ ”

He looks back at her for just a second. “Sorry, Britta. Abed knows best. But I’ll always remember that you kind of slowed us down and complained a lot.”

He rounds the corner with Abed and leaves her to scream curses at them while she falls to Hickey’s wrath.

“Do you think we were too hard on her?” Troy asks Abed.

He shakes his head. “War is hell. Sometimes you have to leave other people behind to save yourself.”

“But you wouldn’t leave me behind, would you?” Troy asks, feeling a little nervous about what Abed’s answer might be.

“No.”

“Ok,” Troy says, relieved. “But what if it comes down to just us two? What’ll we do then?”

Abed’s shoulders go rigid. His chair seems to start hitting the floor with much more force, but maybe Troy’s just imagining it.

“I don’t know,” he says. “We could split the prize money fifty/fifty. Actually, if I win I’m not selling my _Space Clone_ issue. It’s too valuable to me.”

Troy’s confused. “Then why did you offer that up as the prize for winning the game?” he says. “If you don’t want to lose it, why take a chance?”

“Because we’re going to win,” Abed says simply. “We always do.”

“Neither of us have ever won at paintball,” Troy points out. “And no one won the Pillow War.”

“Paintball wasn’t our area of expertise. And unlike with the Pillow War, we’re on the same team this time.”

Troy smiles. “That’s true. I’m glad we’re working together.”

Abed stops moving for a second, turns his head to look at Troy. “Me too,” he says.

Abed’s face is really close to Troy’s. Like, kissing-distance close. Close enough that Troy could probably count his eyelashes if he wanted to, but if he told Abed that, Abed would call it clichéd.

Troy’s heart is hammering. The blood is roaring in his ears. He can’t stop looking at Abed’s lips, and he has no idea what Abed’s thinking right now. If he just leaned in a little -

Abed faces forward again and continues inchworming. “We’re wasting time.”

“Yeah,” Troy says, trying not to let his disappointment be obvious in his voice. “I know. My arms are getting really tired.”

“That’s ok,” Abed says. “We’re here.”

Shirley Island is a massive fort made out of blankets in the middle of what used to be Greendale’s cafeteria. Neil greets them at the door, makes them give him their brooms before they can go over, which is sort of annoying. Does he not trust them or something?

Then again, this _is_ technically a battle royale, and it’s everyone for themselves. Even if they’re all in alliances now, they’ll have to turn against each other at some point.

“Abed,” Troy says as they pull themselves across the floor. “Don’t you think this is sort of like - “

“ _The Hunger Games._ Exactly what I was thinking. Except with more lava and less working-class rebellion.”

Inside the Island (which is a really weird thing to say because how can something be _inside_ an island, it would have to be _on_ the island, and now Troy’s brain feels all wrinkly because this isn’t even really an island it’s just a huge fort made out of leftover supplies from the Pillow War, and - ugh, he’s getting distracted again) the rest of the living are huddled in a circle, strategically balanced on various tables and chairs to keep away from the lava. Jeff sees them first, grins.

“You made it! We were worried for a second there,” he says.

“You shouldn’t have been,” Abed replies. “You should know by now that Troy and Abed don’t go down that easily.”

“Friends!” Shirley exclaims, with arms wide open. “Welcome to my island, where all your dreams come true. If your dreams include standing on tables and pissing in jars, that is. Anyway, it’s good to see that you’re - “ She falters. “Wasn’t Britta supposed to be with you? Where is she?”

Troy glances over at Abed. He can tell they’re both feeling pretty guilty. But it was just what they had to do.

“She didn’t make it,” Abed says.

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Shirley nods over at one of her men, who tacks a photo of Britta on a bulletin board labeled, _The Fallen._

“Poor Britta,” Annie remarks, frowning. “She could’ve been helpful to us, if she’d actually gotten into the game.”

“Yeah,” Jeff scoffs. “Fat chance of that happening. She thought it was a chance to use her not-a-therapist techniques on Abed.”

“Anyway,” Abed says, a little too loudly. What is going on with him? “Britta’s sacrifice got us this far, and now we can’t lose.”

Troy frowns, puzzled (a word he’s always liked because it makes it sound like he’s doing a jigsaw puzzle, but not like Jigsaw from _Saw,_ because that would just be gross. And creepy.). “Why not?”

“Because now we’re on Shirley Island, and judging by what the legends say, so is The Orb.”

Troy raises his eyebrows. “No way.” He looks to Shirley.

She smiles weirdly, like she always does when she’s trying to be nice but actually wants to bite someone’s head off. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re speaking of. Shirley Island is a safe haven. It’s a welcoming place of peace.”

“And profit.”

“Come again?”

“You’re not really playing this game, Shirley,” Abed says, advancing toward her. “You’ve just built up a profile as a merchant, and more power to you for that. But don’t withhold power from others just to make money.” He plants himself on a box right in front of her. “We want The Orb.”

Shirley scowls, and Troy decides that it’s probably gone a bit too far. He hops down next to Abed.

“Hey, listen, I’m still feeling a little raw from what happened back there with Britta. I mean, fun is fun, and this _is_ fun, _super_ fun, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t want my last day here to be a day where everyone hates me.”

Abed stares down somewhere at the floor, frowning. “Last day?” he says, like he doesn’t know what the words mean.

Troy doesn’t get a chance to say anything else before Hickey’s voice filters through the blankets.

“Citizens of Shirley Island!” Something hisses loudly from out on the cafeteria floor.

Shirley glares. “What have you brought to my door?”

She rushes over to the window. “My God, it’s Hickey. And he’s got chair-walkers!” She wheels back to Troy and Abed. “You didn’t tell me he had chair-walkers!”

“We didn’t know!” Troy says. He looks at Abed worriedly.

“Come out with your hands empty and your feet on the floor, and there will be no need for nudging, jostling, or the ever-informal shoving.”

“ _I did not skip my son’s birthday for second place!_ ” Shirley screams back.

Then another familiar voice sounds through the megaphone. “Listen up! I want to say something to you guys about mental health.”

“Is that _Britta?_ ” Jeff asks. “She’s _alive?_ I thought Hickey got her!”

“Why did you think she was dead?” Shirley’s looking at Troy and Abed like they’re stupid. Troy hates it when people think he’s stupid.

“We kind of...left her,” he says carefully.

“Left her for _dead?_ ” Annie demands.

Abed shakes his head. “Sounds bad when you put it that way. Can you put it a way that sounds good? Is that possible at all?”

“You do realize this isn’t just a pile of chairs, right?” Britta’s voice says. “This is a crib. And you’re curled up inside there like a widdle baby, sucking your widdle thumb, because you’re too scared to say good-bye.”

“Is she talking to all of us?” Jeff asks, with a pointed look at Abed.

“Well, it’s time to grow up!” Britta continues. “The adults are here now, and we’re gonna tear down your widdle _fort._ ”

“They’re coming! The chair-walkers are coming!” Annie says nervously.

“Leonard, butter ‘em up!” Shirley yells. She turns to Annie. “Well, what you are going to do about it?!?”

Annie swallows. “Give me your best rolling chairs!”

Troy ignores her. He leans closer to Abed. “What should we do?”

“We need The Orb,” Abed says. “It’s the only way.”

Troy nods. “Abed?”

“Yeah?”

Troy takes his hand. “Just in case we don’t make it out of here...I want you to know that I’m going to think about you every day I’m on that boat.”

Abed swallows roughly and drops Troy’s hand. “We are going to get out of here.”

He turns to Shirley. “How are Jeff and Annie doing?”

Shirley’s standing by the window and wringing her hands nervously. “Annie’s out. Jeff and Britta are plunger-dueling.”

The fort starts to come down around them as the chair-walkers get closer, tearing it to shreds. Troy ducks as a lantern swings down dangerously close to his head.

“Shirley, give us The Orb and we can save Shirley Island,” Abed tells her.

Shirley waves her hands in frustration. “Don’t you get it? The Orb can’t save Shirley Island because Shirley Island _is_ The Orb! Taking it away means taking away everything I’ve worked for!”

Abed frowns. “When you say the island is The Orb, do you mean in a cool way like Keyser Söze or in a lame way like _Jewel of the Nile?_ ”

Shirley gives him a does-it-really-matter look (which is totally unfair because it’s a pretty important question), and tears the sheet off the lump in the middle of the floor. Troy had thought it was just a weirdly bumpy part of the cafeteria that he’d never noticed before, but it’s -

“The Orb,” Troy breathes.

“You tell Buzz Hickey that Shirley Bennet said...well, I don’t want to waste your time while I think of something to say. Just think of a cool line and give me credit for it.”

Troy and Abed nod, and Shirley nods back. They do their handshake.

“Let’s go.”

“Ok, it’s a lot hotter in here than I was expecting,” Troy says once they’re actually in The Orb, but by then it’s too late and they’re already rolling out onto the main floor.

Hickey moves out of the way just in time, stops his machine and beckons them closer, like he thinks they won’t totally destroy him.

Troy looks at Abed. Abed nods. Troy nods back.

Hickey wheels out of the way just as they’re about to hit him. He puts his death-car in park and glances back at them.

“Ha! Hickey, you chicken!” Troy yells, grinning. Abed smiles too. They’re totally invincible.

...Or as invincible as it’s possible to be with a huge gash in your bubble.

“He gutted us,” Abed says, listening in horror to the air whistling out.

“Retreat?”

“Retreat.”

They roll themselves down the hall, running on what little air The Orb has left, which isn’t really much. They would be able to stop now and abandon ship, but Hickey and Britta are _still_ chasing them.

“When do they _stop?_ ” Troy yells. “And where are we going, anyway?”

  
“I’m not really sure,” Abed shouts back, panting from the effort. “Somewhere they won’t be able to follow.”

Britta launches herself onto the top of the bubble, and Troy would love to gush to her about how cool that is, but she is kind of trying to kill them right now. Or therapize them. Or both.

“I will force you two to grieve properly even if it kills us all!” she screams.

“Go away, Britta!” Abed shouts back, and he actually looks mad about it. Something is up with him, and Troy wants to know what it is.

“Come on!” Abed says, nodding toward the doors to the basement. 

“Shake her off?” Troy asks, gesturing upwards.

“Shake her off!”

They barrel through the double doors, effectively forcing Britta off of them. The only problem is that since they’re the doors to the basement, there’s stairs. Lots of very steep stairs. That hurt like hell to go down.

They land in a heap on the floor, still technically in the game because of the deflating layer of plastic around them.

Abed pushes himself upright, breathing heavily. They’re both tired out, from a combo of the heat that only lives inside plastic things and the effort it takes to pilot a huge ball, which is a lot, actually, even if it doesn’t seem like it should be. Troy really wishes he had some water with him. His throat feels like Tatooine right now.

“Here,” Abed says, offering Troy his hand. Troy takes it and pulls himself up. There’s this drop of sweat that’s slowly making its way from Abed’s temple, down his neck, and to his collarbone. Troy is trying really hard not to stare at it.

He clears his throat. “If we make Hickey’s cut bigger, we can use it to get out of here and onto that crate.”

Abed nods. “Good thinking. Do you think Britta actually died back there?”

“I don’t know,” Troy answers, starting to rip the plastic farther apart. “I want to say that she did, but that’s what we thought last time, and we were totally wrong about that.”

“Well,” Abed says, stepping out of The Orb and pulling Troy out with him. “It doesn’t matter anyway because there’s pretty much no way anyone can get down here. The stairs are virtually impassable.”

“Right,” Troy says, grabbing onto a shelf. Abed follows him.

“Okay,” Abed says, nodding toward a grate in the wall. “We’ll go into the vents, just as an extra precaution. Even if they somehow get down the stairs, there’s no way anyone will be able to find us in there.”

Troy shrugs. “I mean, I say we just take a stand here, right? Someone’s gotta win sometime.”

Abed smiles at him. “Not if we never kill each other. That way we can play forever.”

“Right,” Troy says, then frowns. “Wait, Abed, the floor can’t be lava forever. The game’s gotta end.”

Abed’s jaw clenches, unclenches. He swallows.

“It’s not just a game for me, Troy,” he says, voice wavering. He sounds the closest to tears Troy has ever heard him sound. “I’m seeing real lava because you’re leaving. It’s really embarrassing, and I don’t want to be crazy but I am crazy, so - “ He breaks off, takes a few shaky breaths.

“I made a game that made it possible for you and everyone else to see what I’m seeing.”

Troy isn’t sure what he should say. Abed’s clearly more upset about this than he thought.

Troy glances down at the floor. It does look a lot more bubbly and lava-y than it did a few minutes ago.

Troy looks back up. “Abed - “

He looks so helpless. Like a deer in headlights, which is what Dad always used to say.

“I don’t want it to be there, either, I swear,” Abed says, shaking his head. “I really do want you to be able to leave, but I don’t think the lava goes away until you stop leaving.”

But that just isn’t fair.

“So the only way I can help you is by giving up my chance to...be my own person?” Troy asks, shaking his head. “Abed, I really - “

He’s cut off by the sudden and unmistakeable sound of Britta and Hickey sledding down the stairs on a bookshelf.

“You guys ready for closure?” Britta yells.

“Of your caskets?” Hickey adds, which is just _corny,_ come on, man.

But that’s not what matters right now.

“Guys, you need to stop, okay?” Troy says. “The lava’s real to Abed. It isn’t a game for him.”

Britta’s face changes immediately. “Oh, no.”

“You know what I think?” Hickey growls. “I think he’s too used to getting his own way. I think he’s spoiled. And I think he’s never met me.”

Troy’s blood boils. “Hickey, dude, that’s not what - “

Hickey pushes over the shelf nearest to him, which starts a domino effect that would actually be pretty cool if it weren’t for the circumstances. Troy manages to stay out of the way. Abed jumps so he’s hanging from the ceiling.

“Abed!” Troy yells. “Abed, come on. Take my hand!”

Abed ignores him. Back down on the shelf, Britta shoves Hickey to the ground.

“Unbelievable,” he says. “I helped you out, and this is how you repay me. When this game is over, I’m gonna shove you back so hard.”

He leaves. Which is good, because that dude totally sucks and was being a huge dick to Abed.

Who’s still refusing to take Troy’s hand.

“Abed, give me your hand! Come on!”

Abed reaches behind him. Troy thinks he’s going to take his hand, but he pulls out his copy of _Space Clone_ and hands it over.

“Take it. It’s just us three. You or Britta will be the winner.”

Troy shakes his head. “I’m not leaving you, okay? Look...I promise I’m not. The floor’s not lava anymore, just give me your hand, _Abed._ ”

Troy is suddenly aware of the fact that he’s crying. And he can’t bring himself to care.

Abed looks down. “I don’t think the lava’s here because you’re leaving,” he says. “I think it’s here because I can’t let you go.”

He glances back at Troy. “I’m sorry. Bye.”

“Wh - Abed, no! Abed! _Abed!_ ”

But no matter how many times Troy screams his name, it can’t stop Abed from falling. He hits the floor, closes his eyes, and stops moving.

“ _Abed,_ ” Troy says. He swallows roughly. His throat hurts really bad.

“He’s...he’s fake dead. Forever.”

Britta sniffles loudly. “Why’d he do it?”

Troy looks down at Abed’s body sadly. “He had to. He had to let go.”

Britta hops across to where Troy is. She sits down next to him, glancing down at Abed warily.

“He’s not really dead, Troy.”

“No,” Troy says angrily. “But he’s really _playing_ dead, and he’s not going to stop.” He gives her the _Space Clone_ comic. “Here. Congratulations, you _win._ ”

“Troy, that isn’t fair.”

“You don’t get it.” Troy shakes his head. “You don’t. No one really gets Abed. I got him a little, but...this is all my fault.”

How did he ever think it would be a good idea to leave Abed behind? He’d only been thinking of himself, and how he’d be going on a cool life-changing journey like in all the movies, but he hadn’t really thought of how Abed would deal with it. And now, because of Troy, Abed’s lying on the ground, fake dead in a game of Hot Lava that was supposed to be fun.

Would it have been so hard for Pierce to _not_ make Troy go through some ridiculous test before he could get the money? Because Troy would love a lot of money, and while self-discovery sounds fun, he doesn’t want to leave Abed and everyone else to do it. Maybe he’s less ready to go than he thought.

Troy stands up. “I don’t deserve to fake live.”

Britta grabs his sleeve before he can step off the crate. “Wait! Don’t do it, Troy. Don’t, I - I can fix this. I can fix this.”

“How?”

Britta stands too. “I don’t know. In real life, I have no idea how to fix this but - I can fake fix it. I think. Um, I can - “ She waves the comic book. “I can clone him! Yeah, I’ll clone him.”

Wait. This could work.

“Go on,” Troy says.

Britta nods. “I just need his - his DNA, right? Let’s get his DNA.”

She reaches down toward Abed to collect a sample. Troy starts thinking.

“I’m...gonna find ancient technology from this once great civilization and try and build a cloning machine!” He reaches for the cardboard box behind him.

Britta holds up another box. “I’m going to put this cellular regeneration machine-sequencer-thing on the spot where he died.”

Troy tosses her his cardboard. “You can’t forget this.”

Britta catches it. “Uh, right! _This..._ this is a laser guidance system that keeps the regeneration sequence from...jib-jabbing.”

“Jib-jabbing?” Troy asks.

Britta ignores him. She throws the cardboard on top of Abed, who hasn’t shown any sign of movement at all, because when Abed gets committed to a role, he gets committed.

“Initiate cloning regeneration sequence,” Britta says.

“Don’t cloning and regeneration mean the same thing? That’s kind of repugnant, don’t you think?”

“It’s _redundant,_ Troy, and - whatever! The sequence has been initiated, help me out here!”

Once the machine is done, they lift the boxes off. Abed doesn’t move. The silence is dramatic and suspenseful, and Abed’s definitely doing it on purpose.

“Did it work?” Britta asks.

“Give it a second.” Troy smiles at her. “You’re really cool, Britta.”

She smiles back.

Abed opens his eyes.

Troy feels relief wash through him. “It worked.”

Britta grins. “We made a perfect clone of Abed!”

Clone!Abed stands up, and Troy wants to just launch himself over and hug him really tight. But he probably shouldn’t do that because clones can be pretty fragile once they’ve just come out of the machine.

“Actually, Britta’s work was a little sloppy,” Clone!Abed says. “I’m not quite an exact replication. I have all of Abed’s abilities and memories and stuff, but I’m missing his wild emotionality.”

Britta shrugs. “Sorry. I guess I Britta’d it.”

Clone!Abed nods. “Although, I think I may be able to let Troy go now. I think it’s ok for me to do that.”

“Actually, I don’t know,” Troy says slowly. “I haven’t been completely honest with you guys. I’m really scared to go on my trip. I don’t know where I’m going to go, and for how long, and I won’t have cell service everywhere which means I won’t always be able to call you, and I don’t know who Pierce paid to come on this trip with me, and I’m also - I’m not really ready to leave you.”

Britta pats Troy’s shoulder. Abed nods.

“Well, you don’t have to go on your trip. Your clone can.”

Troy smiles. “Right. My clone can.”

He’ll still have to go. But he’ll leave a piece of himself behind.

The next day is perfect. No, really, it’s perfect. It’s sunny, there’s low humidity, there isn’t a cloud in the sky, and there’s a perfect breeze blowing around Greendale.

Troy always thought that in situations like these, life would be more like in the movies. Like today would be all rainy and dark, because then it would be sad, and Troy’s feeling pretty sad right now.

The boat that Troy’s meant to sail on, the _Childish Tycoon,_ is parked out in front of the school. A lot of people are staring at it, but when they see the study group, a lot of them just roll their eyes and keep walking. They’ve got a pretty weird reputation around here, Troy knows.

There was a time that Troy would have cared too much about that word, _reputation._ He would have fought tooth and nail to protect it, would have done anything to keep it clean.

Now, he doesn’t really care. Now, he’s got a family, and he’s about to leave them all behind.

“You guys are all cloned up too, huh?” he asks them. He tries to smile, but he can already feel it wavering. There was a time that Troy would have tried his hardest never to cry. Right now, it’s all he feels like doing.

Shirley nods along with the others. “Yes, I believe in cloning,” she says, and Troy loves her for trying.

The guy in the truck towing the boat honks his horn, once, twice. Troy nods at him.

“I guess that’s my ride,” he says. Which means it’s time for him to really do it. He really has to say goodbye.

He goes to Britta first, because she’s closest to him, but also because she’s been such a great friend. Troy’s only dated so many women in his life as a gay man, and he’s glad Britta was one of them.

“I’m so excited for you,” she says, smiling softly. “You’re gonna get to see the world, and become a new man, and experience all these different cultures. I mean, technically all culture has been homogenized by countless years of white imperialism, but at least the candy wrappers will...”

Troy nods. Britta laughs.

“God, there I go,” she sighs, sounding choked up. “Almost Britta’d our goodbye, huh? I’m the worst.”

Troy shakes his head. “You’re not the worst. You’re the best. And I love you.”

He hugs her, and it’s one of the best hugs he’s ever had in his life. He seems to have had a lot of those with Britta, and that makes perfect sense to him.

He moves to Annie next. Her eyes are already wet.

“All I ever wanted in high school was for Troy Barnes to notice me. And then I ended up living with you. I’m pretty lucky, don’t you think?”

“I’m not,” Troy tells her. “I had the chance to be your friend back in high school, but I was too busy trying to be someone I wasn’t. I missed out on a whole four more years of Annie Edison.”

“ _Aw,_ ” she says as she hugs him, fully crying now, and Troy feels a few tears slide down his own face.

“Take care of Kitten for me,” he murmurs. “Make sure she doesn’t kill Abed.”

“Of course.”

“Troy,” Jeff says, offering his hand.

“Jeff,” Troy says back, shaking it. “You are the coolest guy I know. Seriously. And I hope I make you proud.”

Jeff swallows, and pulls him into a hug. “I’ve never even left Colorado,” he mutters. “You’re becoming much cooler than me by doing this. And to be honest, I think you already were.”

Troy grins. “I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

“I - “

“Oh, shut it you two,” Shirley says wetly. “Before I have to steal Troy away myself.”

Troy smiles at her. “Thanks for looking out for me, Shirley.”

“Thank you for putting up with the boring, old mom in your college study group,” she says, through tears.

“Don’t say that,” Troy tells her. “You made a furniture fortress. You’re the badass from our study group.”

Shirley nods, more tears streaming down her face. “Oh, _come here!_ ”

She hugs him, and Troy hugs her back. And then he’s pulling away, patting her shoulder one last time before -

Abed.

“Clone!Troy.”

“Clone!Abed.”

“By the way, when I cloned you, I had to patch up some of the missing parts of your DNA with genes from a homing pigeon,” Abed says. “It was the only thing I had on hand. Just know that you may experience some side effects from that, like a compulsion to - “ He swallows. “To come back.”

Troy’s heart feels like it’s shattering, but he says, “Cool. Clone hug?”

Abed nods, and Britta’s hugs may be great, Annie’s may be sweet, Jeff’s may be rare, and Shirley’s may be comforting, but Abed will always give the best ones.

Abed will always be his other half, in every timeline. Troy’s pretty sure he’s known that since they first met.

Troy smiles while he hugs him. But he can feel himself starting to frown.

“I love you,” Troy whispers, and he hopes it won’t be the last time he says it.

Abed doesn’t say anything, just tightens his arms around Troy’s shoulders.

The hug ends too soon, way too soon, but Troy has to leave at some point.

“So,” Jeff says roughly, trying and failing to disguise the fact that he’s definitely crying right now. “You’re really just gonna pilot this thing all on your own?”

Troy forces himself to look away from Abed. “Well, Pierce said in his will that he assigned someone to travel with me to verify with the legal dudes that I didn’t cheat. But I’ve been thinking and thinking about who it could be, and I have no clue.”

“Captain Barnes,” a voice says from onboard. “We should probably set sail while the winds are still in our favor, don’t you think?”

Shirley gasps. Troy can feel himself starting to freeze up, because of _course_ Pierce got _LeVar Freaking Burton Himself to torture Troy even further -_

He feels a hand rest on his shoulder. Abed nods at him.

“Engage,” he says, and Troy calms down almost immediately.

He smiles, and he gets on the boat.

LeVar puts a captain’s hat on Troy’s head. Original!Troy would have completely shut down. But this is Clone!Troy, and he’s only going to have a very minor internal freakout.

“Now, Troy, I know it’s going to be difficult for you to, you know, interact with me, but I - “

“No, no,” Troy says. “That was the original Troy. I’m his clone. There won’t be a problem.”

LeVar raises his eyebrows.

Troy nods. “Let’s get the lead out, Burton.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Troy rests his hands on the railing. This used to be Pierce’s boat before he died, where he supposedly did coke with John Denver in Belize or something when he was Troy’s age, and while it’s hard to imagine a younger Pierce, maybe he really meant this. Maybe, for once, he was being sincere when he wrote down in his will that Troy had to go on this journey. Because he knew it would mean Troy leaving, but he also knew Troy would find himself. And he didn’t want Troy to waste his life the way he had.

Troy actually feels a real flash of grief right there - something he hasn’t felt for Pierce yet, not really. The dude was racist and crazy, but he let Troy move in with him and stuff, so maybe he was ok sometimes, and Troy kind of misses him, even if just a little.

Troy looks out at his friends. And he know he’s going to miss them more.

As he’s waving goodbye, he only looks at Abed. He doesn’t let his eyes move away from Abed until the boat is around the corner, and so is Greendale.

Troy wonders how long it will be before he gets to go back.

“We should probably get below deck,” LeVar says. “Don’t want to get pulled over. Remind me why we’re starting a sail from Colorado, again?”

Troy opens his mouth to say something like, _Pierce probably didn’t even know Colorado was land-locked,_ but instead he just bursts into tears.

“Oh,” LeVar says. “Oh, Troy, are you ok?”

Troy shrugs, wiping his face with his hoodie sleeve. “I just left everything I love behind.”

LeVar puts a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe that’s true. But you know what?”

“What?”

“You’re not going to be gone forever.”

And he’s right. Troy’s going to come back some day, and things will be different, but he’s going to come back and be with his friends again.

Because even if he’s going to be sailing all around the world, he knows that his real home is in Study Room F at Greendale Community College. Where his friends are.

Where Abed is.

  * **1**



It’s a year and a half later, while they’re docked in New Zealand, that Troy decides it’s been long enough.

He’s spent the past eighteen months doing nothing but sailing, going to cool vacation spots, sailing, emailing Abed, sailing, calling his mom, and sailing. Pierce had never really given an exact amount of time Troy had to spend on the boat, but he’s pretty sure he’s been away from Colorado for more than enough.

When he tells LeVar, he just nods and says, “I didn’t want to say anything, but I think it’s time to go, too.”

This whole trip has been...well, it hasn’t been _bad._ It’s actually been pretty fun. Troy’s been so many different places that he could probably go up to one of those maps where you scratch off the countries you’ve visited and just throw it in the garbage. And he really has gotten to know himself better as a person. Time apart from home, and time (almost) by himself has helped him understand who Troy Barnes is more than he ever had at home.

But he misses Greendale too much. He hasn’t _stopped_ missing it since he left. It’d been really bad right after they left, and they were at their first stop in the Florida Keys. Troy had felt so homesick, he’d hardly left the boat. LeVar had set him up with a blanket and some instant ramen he’d gotten at a 7/11, but that had just made Troy think of how Abed would eat buttered noodles all the time, and he felt worse.

About nine months into the journey, Troy had started to feel a little better about everything. He still missed Colorado, but he thought about it less, and enjoyed all the port cities they visited a little more. He emailed Abed any time he had service, tried to keep up with the other members of the study group, and spent a lot of time with LeVar talking about _Star Trek_ and _Reading Rainbow_ and stuff, which was pretty cool.

Troy and Abed used to email as much as possible. Usually, by the time the _Childish Tycoon_ docked in a new place, Troy would have at least ten emails from Abed sitting in his inbox, talking about _Inspector Spacetime,_ or a new scratch from Kitten Tarantino, or whatever crazy stuff the study group had gotten up to that week. And it would make Troy smile to hear about all of it, but it also made him really, really sad, because _he_ wanted to watch _Inspector Spacetime,_ and _he_ wanted to fall asleep with Kitten in his lap and Abed’s head on his shoulder, and _he_ wanted to know what he looked like in Jeff’s _G.I. Joe_ fever dream.

But Troy would email Abed back, anyway, would tell him about all the cool places he visited, would tell him the story of that time a monkey stole his sandwich while they were in Argentina, and all about the new trivia he learned about Geordi La Forge from LeVar, and he would try not to miss Abed too much, because that way it hurt more.

And then, about six months ago, Abed just kind of stopped emailing him. They’d been speaking less and less frequently, and then Troy sent an email and Abed never responded to it, and Troy didn’t send anymore because he knew there must be a reason why Abed wouldn’t write back. And he’d thought, just for a second, _Maybe he’s found a new best friend. Maybe he doesn’t need me anymore._

Troy doesn’t want to believe that that’s true. Because that would break his heart.

But the fact is that he hasn’t heard from Abed for a long time, and he really doesn’t know _why._ Everyone else that he’s talked to, in his conversations with Annie and his Skypes with Shirley, doesn’t really mention Abed, and Troy doesn’t bring it up, because he’s sort of scared to, to be honest. Obviously, no one else knows that the two of them have stopped talking, but they have, and it _hurts._

And Troy is still in love with him. He’s been away from Abed for almost two years, and he’s still just as much in love with him now as he ever was back at Greendale. He thought it would go away when he left, or that it would at least simmer down a little, but it never did.

Troy feels like he’s missed out. Like he had his chance to say everything he ever wanted to say to Abed, and he let it fly by. He wasn’t clear enough, he never sat down and _talked_ to Abed about how much he loves him, and now it’s too late. He’s missed the boat ( _haha_ ), and it’ll never come back.

At the same time, he feels like he did pretty much everything he could. He told Abed he loved him more than once, and nothing ever came out of it. Maybe it’s Abed’s fault.

But blaming Abed feels wrong.

It’s probably weird that Troy hasn’t told LeVar. He’s talked a lot about his friends, he’s talked a lot about Abed, but he’s never mentioned the fact that he’s been in love with Abed for almost as long as he’s known him. It’s not that he strictly _has_ to; LeVar doesn’t need to know everything about Troy’s personal life, and Troy doesn’t need to know everything about his. But they’ve been traveling together for a long time. They share a _bathroom,_ for crying out loud. Personal boundary lines have been crossed and then crossed back over again, and Troy should just tell him about Abed. Maybe he could even get some advice out of it.

Except Troy doesn’t really know _how_ he would tell him. There’s so much to say, because there’s so much that Troy _feels,_ and he’d probably end up sobbing and feeling really embarrassed by the end of it. Like, what would he even _say?_

_Hey, LeVar, you know my best friend Abed that I’ve talked about? Yeah, well, I was in love with him, and I still am, and I don’t know what to do._

_Hey, LeVar, you know how I keep impulse-buying those badly-translated_ Inspector Spacetime _trinkets any time I see them in a gift shop and then mailing them off? It’s because they remind of me of the love of my life, and he collects them, and I miss him._

_Hey, LeVar, remember that time we were at that karaoke party on that yacht in Casablanca, and I started crying when that song from the movie about the Jewish mice came on? Well, that’s because one time I sang that song with my best friend to a rat, and I’ve actually been in love with him this whole time. Oh, by the way, I’m gay._

Ok, well, LeVar _probably_ knows at least that much. Troy hasn’t come out to him directly, but he hasn’t been outright _hiding_ his sexuality, either. There’s only so many times you can return to your boat in the early hours of the morning from a night at a gay club in Amsterdam, or Oslo, or somewhere like that without your sailing partner noticing the glitter in your hair and the occasional hickey on your neck. They just haven’t _talked_ about it.

Troy seems to do that a lot, the whole not-coming-out thing. He did it with Shirley, and he did it with Pierce, and he did it with his parents, too. Oops.

He doesn’t even go clubbing that often, and he’s only gone home with three guys this whole time. It’s fun to go, and it’s fun to be surrounded by tons of people just like him for the first time in his life, but somewhere in the middle of the night, with Cher blasting through the speakers and about ten glow bracelets around Troy’s wrists, he’ll start thinking of Abed, and that’s when he’ll stumble back to the boat and try his hardest not to wake LeVar, which is difficult, since they share a room.

Sometimes Troy has dreams about Abed. He’ll be staring at the boat’s ceiling, thinking about that time they all went to the _Inspector Spacetime_ convention and Troy got really jealous of that Toby guy (but it totally made sense that Troy hated him, because he was really a huge dick), and then he’ll drift off into sleep and dream about Abed kissing him when Troy saves him from the fake Time Booth. Or he’ll dream that he’s Spiderman and Abed is Batman, and they’re out fighting crime together (the supervillains always end up looking a lot like Jeff), or he’ll dream that he never left Greendale, and he’s still living with Abed and Annie (even though Annie’s in Virginia and Abed moved out to L.A.), and he gets to be with his friends every day. When he wakes up, he’ll stare at that photo that Britta took after the Pillow War, and try not to cry too much.

Once, he has a nightmare. He’s coming home from his trip, finally, except instead of going to California, he goes back to Greendale. When he gets to the study room, the table is gone, and no one’s there except Abed, who looks at Troy and asks, _Why did you leave? You ruined everything,_ and when Troy tries to open his mouth to say something back, nothing comes out, and Abed looks at him in disgust and leaves the room.

Troy wakes up in the middle of the night because of that one, and then he has a silent panic attack, silent because he doesn’t want to wake up LeVar and bother him.

He only has that dream once, but he thinks about it all the time. It’s there in his head while he’s trying to sleep, while he’s out on the deck at night, watching the full moon touch the giant ocean, and it always makes him feel seasick.

And then the night before they’re set to leave New Zealand, Troy has a dream that’s really more like a memory.

For the longest time, he couldn’t remember what happened at that Halloween party in sophomore year, except that he was a giant dick to Abed and apparently the whole school got drugged (though that didn’t really explain why Troy had bites all over his body that night, but he guesses it must have been some really freaky type of roofie). He remembers showing up at the party as Ripley, ditching that costume at some point, and waking up in the study room to doctors everywhere and a wrinkly feeling in his brain.

When he has the dream, he doesn’t remember much else beyond that. He just sees one moment. He and Abed are with Jeff, and then they aren’t, and something’s chasing them, but Troy can’t figure out what. And then Troy’s climbing through a window, and he’s turning back to help Abed up, but Abed isn’t coming, and Troy says, _I love you,_ and Abed says, _I know._ And that moment just replays over and over again until Troy sits up in bed, panting, heart beating like a jackrabbit, and his t-shirt completely soaked through.

“Troy,” LeVar is saying, but his voice sounds far away and kind of hard to hear, and Troy’s head feels dizzy.

LeVar walks him out to the deck, sits him on one of the chairs and brings him a big glass of water, and then he sits next to him and asks,

“Do you need to talk about it?”

And Troy decides that he probably does, because he’s never really talked about it with anyone before, and he’s been holding this all inside him for like, seven years.

He takes a sip of water, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“LeVar,” he says slowly. “Do you ever feel like you’ve missed something major? Like you should’ve done something, and then you didn’t, and now you don’t know if you’ll ever get another chance?”

“Well, sure,” LeVar replies. “There’s been a couple of times where I’ve turned down a role, and then later I wondered if that was the right thing to do, but - “

“I don’t mean like that,” Troy says. “I mean like, if you were in love with somebody, and then you left them, and you’re not sure if things will be the same when you go back.”

LeVar hums. “Is this about someone back in Colorado?”

Troy swallows. “Yeah.”

“Ok. Was it someone in the study group you were a part of?”

Troy nods. “It was Abed. It _is_ Abed.”

“Your best friend. The one who really likes _Inspector Spacetime._ ”

He nods again. “I messed up. I shouldn’t have left without...”

“Without telling him how you feel?” LeVar asks, and Troy shakes his head.

“I don’t know,” he says. “I mean, I _did_ tell him, but I don’t think he got it.”

LeVar frowns. “I don’t understand what’s so hard to get when someone tells you they’re in love with you.”

“Yeah, but Abed’s brain doesn’t work like that,” Troy says, taking another drink of water. “I think he didn’t realize I meant it romantically, like he thought I was just saying it as his friend, and - I don’t know, I guess I should’ve made it clearer to him, but I was too scared.”

“It’s ok to be scared about that sort of stuff,” LeVar says gently. “You shouldn’t beat yourself up about it. Love is a scary thing.”

Troy shrugs. It feels good to get it all out, but it’s also making him feel _tired._ And like he really misses home.

“What did he do when you told him?” LeVar asks. “How did he react?”

“I didn’t tell him once,” Troy mutters.

“What?”

“I told Abed how I feel,” Troy does a quick check on his fingers, counting in binary, because that’s something Abed had started doing just for fun right before Troy left, and Troy still does it reflexively. “Five different times. I used to think it was four, but then I remembered this one other time. So, yeah. Five times.”

LeVar stares. “You must really love him then, if you said it that often.”

Troy sets the glass down on the deck and puts his head in his hands. “I love him so _much._ It’s not even funny. It’s like, before I started going to college and met Abed, I thought I had to be the coolest dude ever. I was star quarterback and prom king, and I was still trying to hold onto all that, and then when I met Abed I didn’t know what to do. He was so _different_ than any other friend I’d ever had before, and I know that if I knew him in high school, I would’ve picked on him like crazy, but at college, it wasn’t like that. He helped me figure out who I was, and he’s so _incredible,_ and I love him so much and I wish _stupid_ Pierce never _stupid_ died, because then I wouldn’t have had to leave Abed and go on this _stupid_ trip. No offense.”

Troy’s eyes are burning, and his face feels wet, and he feels more homesick now than he has this whole sail. And at the same time, he’s glad he’s let it all out, and laid out all of his worries. It feels _good._ Troy’s shoulders feel less tense than they have in weeks, and he feels like a big weight has been lifted off his back.

“Drink some more,” LeVar says, handing him the glass.

“Thanks,” Troy mumbles once he’s finished off the rest of the water. “Sorry to dump all this on you.”

LeVar smiles. “I don’t mind. And I think it’s a good thing we’re setting sail tomorrow, because it’s clear that you need to go home and tell Abed you love him one more time.”

“But what if he’s moved on?” Troy asks, feeling the familiar worries come creeping back. “He stopped returning my emails. What if he has a new best friend, and he doesn’t want me anymore?”

“I didn’t know you two when you were at college together,” LeVar says. “But from the way you talk about him, and from all the stories I’ve heard about you two, I don’t think he’s forgotten about you that easily.”

Troy really hopes he’s right.

They leave early the next morning from Wellington. Troy finds a miniature figurine of a kiwi wearing the Third Inspector’s hat and scarf while he’s shopping for last minute snacks, and he buys it without a second thought. He doesn’t mail it, though - he’s pretty sure he means to hand it to Abed in person.

LeVar says the sail from New Zealand to L.A. should take about three months. That’s a while, but compared to two years, it’s practically nothing.

Of course, that means it ends up feeling like it takes the longest time _ever._ Because for once, Troy is actually excited to get where he’s going.

Well, no, not for once. That’s not exactly true. He’s been to a lot of cool places on this trip, and each has been more fun than the last. He can’t say he hasn’t had a good time, because then he’d be lying (even if they did get captured by pirates for a minute there (the pirates decided the media coverage they were getting for capturing a celebrity was too much, so they set them free, which is ridiculous, but also very fortunate for Troy and LeVar)).

But he’s glad he’s going home, no matter how long it takes to get there.

The next time they make a stop, Troy calls Shirley to tell her he’s coming home. He would have called back in Wellington, but he’d honestly been a little nervous to do it. He still is, but at least now that he’s on his way, he’ll feel a little better about.

He also doesn’t really mean to call Shirley specifically; but Annie doesn’t pick up (probably at work, or maybe asleep, if Troy’s got his timezones wrong), and neither does Jeff (definitely asleep), and he doesn’t even try Britta, because there’s so many things she could be doing right now.

He also doesn’t call Abed. He’s too afraid that he won’t pick up.

So Shirley it is.

“Troy?”

“Hey, Shirley.”

“Troy!” He can hear her smile from the other side. “It’s midnight, why are you calling?”

Troy winces. “Whoops. Guess I didn’t get the timezone right. I was thinking of Los Angeles instead of Atlanta, sorry.”

“That’s ok,” she says. “Is something wrong? I haven’t heard from you in a month.”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” he says. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m, uh - I’m on my way home.”

Troy has to hold the phone away from his ear so he doesn’t go deaf from all the screaming Shirley’s doing. It’s high-pitched and loud, and Troy grins anyway.

“Oh, Troy, that’s _nice!_ ” she says. “Have you told anyone else yet?”

“Nope, just you.”

“Really? Not even Abed?”

Troy swallows. “Yeah, I don’t know. I mean, he’s living that big-shot TV life in L.A. I guess I didn’t want to bother him.”

“But Troy,” she says, sounding confused. “He’s your best friend.”

There’s a lump in Troy’s throat. “I know. I know.”

“Well,” Shirley says carefully. “When do you think you’ll be back?”

“I should get to California in about eighty days,” Troy tells her. “It’s a long time.”

“Oh, that’s ok,” she says. “You’re coming home, and that’s what matters.”

“Yeah.” Troy smiles. “You’re right.”

He hears Shirley yawn on the other end. “Well, honey, I would love to stay and chat for longer, but I gotta go to bed. I’ve got work in the morning.”

“Oh, yeah,” Troy says sheepishly. “Sorry for waking you up.”

“It’s _fiiiiiine._ I’m just glad to hear the good news. I’ll make sure to tell everyone about it. Ok, well, good ni - “

“Shirley,” Troy says, because it’s practically bursting out of him, and he has to tell her. “I’m in love with Abed.”

Quiet. Shirley is quiet for twenty whole seconds.

_Shit._

But then she says, “Oh, Troy. I know.”

_Wait, what?_

“You _know?_ ”

“Yes,” she says gently. “And I’m sorry if I ever seemed... _homophobic_ before. I’ve been talking to my pastor about it ever since you left, and I’m much more supportive of your _lifestyle_ now.”

Troy smiles, feeling a heat bloom in his chest. “Thanks, Shirley.”

“You’re welcome. But seriously, Troy, I’m going to bed,” she says. “Tell that boy how you _feeeeeeeel._ ”

Troy laughs. “I will. Good night, Shirley.”

He ends the call just as LeVar comes back aboard with more fuel.

“How’d it go?” he asks.

Troy grins. “Not bad.”

He wakes up the next morning to about fifty unread text messages, and LeVar remarking (not really complaining, because he’s too nice to complain) that the buzzing from Troy’s phone kept him up for a while.

“Sorry,” Troy says sheepishly. “I think Shirley told them we’re coming back.”

LeVar smiles. “You’re very fortunate to have friends who care about you so much.”

Troy grins back. “Yeah, I am.”

**Study Group Chat/Save Greendale Committee/Greendale Planning Committee/Greendale 7 But Minus Pierce And Plus Frankie, Elroy, And The Dean (AND NOT CHANG!!!!!!!)**

**annie** 🦸🏻♀️ **:** TROY! YOU’RE COMING HOME?!??!?

**annie** 🦸🏻♀️ **:** Why didn’t you TELL me?????

**shirley** 👩🏾🍳 **:** Now, Come On, Annie, Don’t Be Jealous That He Told Me First.

**annie** 🦸🏻♀️ **:** I’m not jealous! I’m just really excited!!!

**britta** 👩🏼💻 **:** Really glad you’re coming back Troy

**britta** 👩🏼💻 **:** When do you get home

**britta** 👩🏼💻 **:** Oh wait you’re probably aslope nvm

**britta** 👩🏼💻 **:** *Asleep

**shirley** 👩🏾🍳 **:** He Said He Will Be In Los Angeles In About Three Months Or So!

**annie** 🦸🏻♀️ **:** That’s so awesome! I’ll have to see if I can get away from work and visit you! Are you going to stay with Abed?

**britta** 👩🏼💻 **:** He probably will. Troy and abed reunited!!

**annie** 🦸🏻♀️ **:** AWWW!!!!

**shirley** 👩🏾🍳 **:** Awww!

**new girl** **frankie** 👩🏻🏫 **:** What is going on and why are you guys blowing up my phone notifications like this? I am at work.

**britta** 👩🏼💻 **:** Troy’s coming home

**new girl frankie** 👩🏻🏫 **:** Oh.

**new girl frankie** 👩🏻🏫 **:** The steel drums guy?

**annie** 🦸🏻♀️ **:** Oh, Frankie, Jeff just made that up. You’re not going to be replaced as the resident steel drums player, don’t worry!

**new girl frankie** 👩🏻🏫 **:** Oh. Good.

**new guy elroy** 👨🏾🦱 **:** WHO IS “TROY”

**britta** 👩🏼💻 **:** Uh. The guy that left before you showed up

**new guy elroy** 👨🏾🦱 **:** IDK WHO THAT IS

**annie** 🦸🏻♀️ **:** We talked about him all the time! He went on a sailing trip after our crazy friend Pierce died, he was Abed’s best friend...he’s literally in this groupchat! He just doesn’t get a lot of time to text.

**new guy elroy** 👨🏾🦱 **:** DOESN’T RING ANY BELLS, BUT OK

**shirley** 👩🏾🍳 **:** Elroy You Should Fix Your Caps Lock. For Someone Who Is Supposed To Be Good With Technology, You Don’t Seem To Know How Texting Works.

**britta** 👩🏼💻 **:** Like your any better Shirley

**new guy elroy** 👨🏾🦱 **:** LMAO

**new girl frankie** 👩🏻🏫 **:** *you’re, and where is Abed, anyway? Shouldn’t he be excited that his best friend is coming home?

**annie** 🦸🏻♀️ **:** You’re right. He should be really happy right now! Abed, are you ok?

**britta** 👩🏼💻 **:** Abed where are you

**jeff** 👑 **:** Ugh W H Y are you all texting right now. Im in the middle of teaching a class whats so important

**new guy elroy** 👨🏾🦱 **:** LIKE YOU EVER ACTUALLY TEACH, WINGER

**jeff** 👑 **:** Shut up Elroy

**jeff** 👑 **:** Oh Troys coming home. Cool. Im surprised the Dean hasnt started freaking out yet

**new girl frankie** 👩🏻🏫 **:** They have, they just don’t have their phone because they lost it in the vents. They read my messages over my shoulder, and they are now crying and digging around in their office closet trying to find the right outfit for Troy’s return. I told them they had three months to figure it out, but it did not seem to have an effect.

**jeff** 👑 **:** Classic

**jeff** 👑 **:** Hey how is Pierces phone still in this thing

Troy smiles as he reads all of the messages, and makes sure to send a quick text back before he and LeVar set sail again. He’s glad all of his friends are happy that he’s coming home. He’s really, really excited to see all of them. Even Frankie, who Troy’s only heard about in emails from Abed, and Elroy, who apparently doesn’t know who Troy is.

But it doesn’t escape his notice that Abed is the only one who didn’t text back, or even react in any way to the news of Troy’s return. There’s no private message from him, no missed calls, nothing. Troy even logs onto his email for the first time in months, just to check, but there’s nothing there besides one of those ads from Ancestry.com that he can’t seem to get rid of.

There’s no way Abed doesn’t know that he’s coming home. But he hasn’t said anything. What if he isn’t excited? What if he doesn’t _want_ Troy to come back?

But that wouldn’t make any sense. Abed had such a hard time letting Troy go, so he’ll be happy that Troy’s finally done with his sail, right?

Right?

It occurs to Troy that he always planned to end the trip by docking at wherever Abed would be at the time. And if Abed doesn’t want to see him when he gets to L.A., then Troy has no idea where he’s going to go.

He tries not to think about that, because it makes him feel really sad and upset when he does.

So instead he thinks about his friends. He thinks about Annie and her job at Quantico, and he wonders how Kitten Tarantino is doing, and how he can’t wait to hug and kiss both of them. He thinks about Jeff, and if he’s still having fun back at Greendale, and hopes that he’s happy. He thinks about Shirley, and he suddenly feels really bad for her, because of Andre and everything. He thinks about Britta, and how he can’t wait to hug her again, and if maybe she dyed her hair or got a tattoo like she was always talking about (even if she’s afraid of needles). He thinks about the Dean and all their crazy costumes, he thinks about Frankie and Elroy, who he’s pretty excited to meet. He even thinks about Chang, and wonders what level of crazy he’s at right now.

And Troy thinks about Abed. He doesn’t mean to so much, but he does. Even if he isn’t thinking about what will happen when he finally gets home, he still imagines what their reunion could be like. Happy, teary ( _definitely_ teary), cheesy like in the movies. He thinks about all the times he told Abed he loved him, all the times he could’ve said more, and he dreams more dreams about him. More Batman and Spiderman, except this time Troy’s hanging upside down from a web and Abed is kissing him like Mary Jane kisses Peter Parker. Some dreams where Troy is Kickpuncher and has to save Abed from a burning building. Troy following Abed the Inspector around as his faithful Constable Reggie, traversing time and space and defeating a ton of Blorgons along the way. He even dreams about them as Bert and Ernie.

Somehow all the thinking about his friends and about Abed helps the time go by faster and faster, blurring the days into weeks and the weeks into months, until finally, the _Childish Tycoon_ is in American waters.

“We should be able to dock around six o’clock tomorrow,” LeVar says, joining Troy on deck to watch the sunset as the boat bobs on top of the waves. “I know where I’m going. Do you?”

Troy sighs. “I’m not really sure,” he says. “I texted Abed last time we stopped, but he didn’t respond.”

LeVar nods, frowning. “Troy, are you really sure that you want to go back to him?”

“What?”

“I just mean that he doesn’t seem very excited for your arrival,” LeVar says. “I know he’s your best friend, but he hasn’t even said anything about you coming home, has he?”

“No,” Troy answers truthfully, thinking of the fact that Abed had only responded to the group chat once the conversation moved away from Troy, and when he did, he didn’t acknowledge Troy’s return, or even mention his name at all. “But I thought you said that our friendship was strong.”

“It is,” LeVar assures him. “I’m completely positive on that fact. I just think it could be a possibility that Abed’s not ready to see you yet. You told me how upset he was when you left - maybe he’s afraid that you’ve changed.”

Troy shakes his head. “But I haven’t changed. Well, not _that_ much.”

“He doesn’t know that.”

Troy looks down at his shoes. “This sucks.”

“Maybe it does,” LeVar says wisely. “But it’ll get better. You just might want to catch a flight to Colorado and see if you can stay with your mother first.”

Troy nods, swallowing around the lump in his throat. He doesn’t _want_ to go home to Mom just yet. He does want to see her, a _lot,_ but Abed is too important to skip over. Troy doesn’t know where in L.A. he lives, but he’ll ask Annie for the address if he has to. He is _not_ going to leave California without at least asking Abed _why._ Why the unanswered emails and the cold shoulder? Why doesn’t he seem happy that Troy’s coming home after two years? Troy has to know.

And he also thinks that he needs to tell Abed that he loves him again, even if it’s for the last time. This time, he’ll be really clear about it. If Abed doesn’t love him back, then...well, Troy doesn’t know what he’ll do, but hopefully Abed won’t be freaked out enough to stop Troy from staying at his place for a few days.

That night, Troy falls asleep to memories of Abed cuddling with him on the couch during their last _Lord of the Rings_ marathon, and that time that the heater broke in the middle of the night and Abed climbed down into Troy’s bunk to snuggle for warmth. They’d fallen asleep in the same bed together before, but that time had felt a lot different.

Troy thinks that if things go wrong, he could always enroll at Greendale for the third time. Maybe he’ll get a job fixing air conditioning units, away from California, away from

Abed. Or maybe he’ll use all the money he’s about to get to buy a big mansion, with a hot tub and everything. He’ll have an indoor bowling alley, and a room that’s just a movie theater, and he’ll have one of those snobby British dudes in the suits bring him all his food, like Alfred in Batman, except not quite Michael Caine (unless it would be _possible_ to get Michael Caine??? Because that would be _awesome_ ).

But Abed’s always been Batman, not Troy. And that sort of fancy lifestyle would never feel right without Abed there by Troy’s side. _Any_ sort of lifestyle doesn’t seem right without Abed.

When they pull into the Los Angeles Port the next day, a full hour after LeVar predicted they would, Troy tries texting Abed one last time.

**abed** 🕵🏽♂️

 **Me:** hey.

**Me:** so i just got in

**Me:** and idk if u want Me to come over or Not

**Me:** so can u just tell me??? so i kno if i should get a Hotel and stuff.

Troy’s about to put his phone back in his pocket when he sees a check mark appear by his texts. Abed can see them, but he isn’t typing anything back. Troy waits a few seconds, but nothing happens.

**Me:** abed?

The little bouncing dots that mean that Abed’s writing back pop up. Troy’s palms suddenly feel really sweaty.

**Me:** if u don’t want me to come over it’s Ok

Nothing. And then,

**abed** 🕵🏽♂️ **:** 115 Waverly Street, Hansen’s Apartments.

Troy’s breath catches in his throat. His heart starts pounding like crazy, and his guts feel all tingly.

Abed texted him back. Abed sent him his address. Abed wants him to come to him.

Troy should be happy, but he’s mostly feeling really nervous.

“Well, I guess this is it,” LeVar says.

Troy puts his phone in his pocket. They’re both ready to go, everything packed and off the boat, back home after two whole years of being away. For the first time, Troy wonders how much LeVar’s missed his family. He never mentioned it himself, and Troy feels guilty for never having bothered to ask.

“We’ll meet up soon, right?” Troy asks. “With the lawyers and stuff?”

LeVar smiles. “Troy, I sailed around the world with you for two years because a crazy old white man paid me to do it,” he says. “I’ll definitely make sure you get your money.”

Troy grins. “Thanks, LeVar.”

LeVar nods. “I’ve had a wonderful time being your sailing partner,” he says. “What an adventure we had.”

“Yeah,” Troy says, already starting to tear up.

LeVar holds out his hand for Troy to shake. Troy hugs him instead.

“ _Thank you,_ ” Troy says, his voice coming out all muffled because of LeVar’s shoulder.

LeVar pats him on the back. “You’re a good kid, Troy Barnes. I hope you stay happy.”

Troy sniffles. “You too.”

So LeVar heads off to Sherman Oaks, with a promise to call Troy soon to set up a date with the attorneys, and Troy’s left alone at the docks with a bag full of dirty clothes and a boat that he’ll probably have to figure out what to do with later.

His phone’s almost dead, but he types the address Abed sent him into Google Maps. It’s not too far away, which is good, because Troy doesn’t have any cash on him to pay for an Uber or anything. He starts walking.

Troy’s never been to California before, but that doesn’t matter to him, because he’s still technically home, even if he’s not in Colorado. To be honest, though, Troy’s home was only Colorado until Abed left it.

No one on the streets gives him any second glances, and no one stares at him, so maybe Troy’s not quite as disgusting-looking as he feels. Or maybe California’s just like that. He wonders if Abed’s been down this road before. Is this on the way to the studio Abed works at? Does Abed have his own car, or does he take a cab or the bus? Does he have people over at his apartment often? Does he like them more than he liked Troy?

Troy forces himself not to think about that, and takes a moment to stop walking and tell the groupchat that he’s back, as well as his mom. Everyone immediately starts to text back, Annie spamming a ton of emojis and capital letters, but Troy ignores them, because according to Google Maps, Abed’s apartment should be right around the corner.

And there it is. The building is nothing special - it’s kind of dirty-looking. It actually reminds Troy a lot of the apartments that he and Abed and Annie used to live in. It’s even got a dead rosemary bush out front, just like at the old place - Troy wonders if maybe Abed picked to live here on purpose because it reminded him of home.

Troy swallows, tightens his hold on his backpack straps, and walks across the street and into the building before he can stop himself.

He stares at Abed’s door for about three minutes before he can mustard up the courage to knock (Troy likes this saying, because mustard is delicious and it totally deserves its own phrase). Abed’s apartment is sandwiched in between two doors, one with crayon drawn all over it, like maybe a kid lives there, and another with smoke coming out from under it, with a smell that reminds Troy of Britta.

He just looks at the numbers on the door, _115, 115, 115,_ and sort of spaces out for a second before he remembers that Abed is on the other side waiting for him.

Troy’s stomach twists, and the back of his neck feels all prickly, but he knocks on the door, once, twice, three times.

It takes a minute for Abed to answer. Troy stands there, his heart bouncing around and his insides feeling the way they do when you go down a huge drop on a rollercoaster, and then he thinks that maybe he got the apartment number wrong, and that whoever’s going to open the door will be some weirdo with twelve cats and a Nicolas Cage tattoo, and they are gonna be _really_ pissed to see Troy, and they’ll smell like garlic and onions, and -

The door moves fast, practically thrown open, and Abed is standing there.

_Abed_ is standing _right there._ Real, in the flesh, tall and gangly, breathing, moving, not on the other side of a screen or in a picture. He’s right in front of Troy, and he looks _good._ His hair’s a little longer than before, curling around his ears, and he looks taller than the last time Troy saw him, if that’s even possible. He’s wearing a blue business suit, his shirt untucked from his pants and his tie unknotted around his neck. He must have just gotten off work.

Troy doesn’t say anything. He’s afraid that if he does, he’ll start crying. He just sort of stares at Abed, unsure if he should smile, or crack a dumb joke, or make a movie reference, or what.

Abed looks Troy up and down, his eyes traveling slowly from Troy’s eyes to his shoes and back up again, and Troy tries not to shiver. And then Abed says,

“You grew a beard.”

Troy blinks. His hand automatically jumps up to rub at his face. “Yeah,” he says lamely.

Abed nods. “It looks good. You can come in.”

And then he turns around and walks inside, leaving Troy no choice but to follow him.

The inside of the apartment also looks a lot like the old place. There’s a ton of photos of the study group all over the walls - the one of Jeff and Annie that one Halloween when they were the boxer and the girl from _The Ring,_ one of Shirley smiling at the grand opening of her sandwich shop, one of Britta holding up Kitten, one of the Dean dressed as Lady Gaga, and even the photo of younger Pierce that they used for his funeral. Troy feels a little sad just looking at all of them, and then he realizes that something’s missing.

“Where are all the pictures of us?” he asks, and Abed stiffens.

“I took them down,” he says. “They were too hard to look it.”

“But you still have them, right?” Troy asks, afraid of what the answer might be.

Abed nods, and Troy feels a wave of relief wash through him. He wishes things weren’t so _weird_ right now.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Abed asks, walking into the kitchen. Troy carefully sits at the table.

“Do you still make Special Drink?”

Abed’s lips quirk up, just a little. “Sure.”

Troy smiles.

While Abed mixes together the milk and the hot cocoa mix, Troy looks around at the rest of the apartment. The walls are papered with the same _Star Trek_ and _Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles_ posters that Troy remembers, plus some new _Inspector Spacetime_ ones and some for shows that Troy doesn’t recognize, like _Highway Fever,_ with a picture of dudes in hard hats and bright orange vests using wrenches and jackhammers to fight each other _,_ and something called _Galactic Conquest._

There’s a couch and a recliner in the TV area - it’s really just the same setup as the old apartment, but with a few small changes. There’s three doors - one probably leads to the bathroom, another to Abed’s bedroom, and the third...Troy isn’t sure.

“Is that - “ he starts, and clears his throat. “Is that like another Dreamatorium?”

Abed glances over at the third door. “No. That’s my study.”

“Oh.”

Right. Abed has a real job now. He doesn’t have time for any dumb simulation stuff. Though that’s probably no fun with only one person, anyway.

Abed sets a mug of Special Drink in front of Troy, and sits down opposite him.

“So,” Troy says awkwardly. “How’s being a big TV guy?”

Abed sips his drink. “It’s pretty great. I’m a writer on this sitcom set in space,” he nods at the poster. “ _Galactic Conquest._ It’s not amazing, but it’s better than _Highway Fever._ That was terrible.”

Troy takes a drink, and he never realized he would miss the taste of cold hot chocolate so much until right now. “What was that about?”

Abed grimaces. “This guy and his buddies who work on a roadwork crew. They have this rival company that they’re always getting into drill-offs and stuff with. It was pretty bad.”

“Then why’d you keep the poster up?”

Abed shrugs. “It might have sucked, but it was also my first real TV project. Even if it was bad, it’s what got me started. I want to remember that.”

Troy nods. “Yeah. That’s cool.”

An uncomfortable silence descends. Troy finishes off his mug and tries not to meet Abed’s eyes.

“How was your sail?” Abed asks eventually.

“It was all right,” Troy says. “I guess I had fun ‘finding myself as a man,’ or whatever Pierce said. Before we came home, we were in New Zealand, and I went to this museum with this tank that had this huge dead squid in it. It was pretty gross, but also really cool, and the guy there said that it was a colossal squid, not a giant squid. Giant squids have the long tentacles, but colossal squids have the big heads.”

Abed nods. “Did you get to see Middle-earth?”

Troy shakes his head sadly. “Too far inland. If I ever go back, I’m totally taking the bus tour, though. You could - “

Abed raises his eyebrows.

“ - You could come with me,” Troy finishes, and wonders why it feels so weird to say that.

Abed stares at his fingers, tapping them along the sides of his cup. “We’d have to go to Weta Studios, too. That’s where they have a lot of the original props and miniatures from _Lord of the Rings_ and - “ He rolls his eyes. “The _Hobbit_ movies.”

“How did those end?” Troy asks, grimacing sympathetically.

Abed snorts. “ _The Battle of the Five Armies?_ I don’t want to talk about it. We can watch it, but I might have to cover my eyes half the time.”

Troy smiles. They’re starting to talk more about the both of them doing things together. That’s probably a good sign.

“Oh!” he says. “That reminds me, I got you something from Wellington.”

He digs in his backpack, and pulls out the miniature _Inspector Spacetime_ kiwi. Abed takes it from him, and examines it closely.

“It’s adorable,” he remarks, and Troy swells with pride.

“Also the people in New Zealand really like this one movie about vampires,” Troy says. “I can’t remember what it’s called, but it sounds hilarious. We should watch it sometime.”

Abed smiles and nods, and things feel just a little bit more back to normal.

“Here,” Abed says, standing up. “Let me show you my room.”

Abed’s bedroom looks a lot like the blanket fort did, except it has actual walls to hang posters on, and a single bed instead of a bunk. There’s a shelf on the wall above the bed frame, and Abed walks over and puts the kiwi toy on it, right in between a Korean First Inspector figurine and a little plate with Constable Reggie on it that Troy bought in Spain, that says ¡ _Tiempo y Espacio!_ in big red letters.

“You kept all of them,” Troy says, a little surprised.

Abed stands back, scrutinizes the shelf, then leans forward and adjusts the kiwi a little to the left. “Of course I kept all of them,” he says. “You sent them to me.”

“So you can keep cheap souvenirs, but you have to take down all the pictures with me in them?” Troy asks, crossing his arms. This doesn’t make any sense.

Abed looks away from Troy’s eyes. “The souvenirs don’t look like you.”

Troy shakes his head. “Abed, I don’t understand. What happened to us? Why does this feel so wrong?”

Abed swallows. “I guess sometimes people change.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t be friends,” Troy says desperately. Abed turns away.

“It’s getting dark,” he says. “I’ll order a pizza. You can take my bed if you want - I can sleep on the pullout.”

“Abed,” Troy says.

Abed leaves the room without even looking at him.

Troy kicks the bedpost angrily, which turns out to be a mistake because now his foot hurts, which makes him even angrier. He’s just so _confused._ He spent almost the whole time he was on that sail dreaming of coming home and seeing Abed again, and now he’s here, and it’s nothing like how he thought it would be. It’s like they’re friends, not _best_ friends. It doesn’t feel _right._

Is it going to be like this forever from now on? Troy really hopes not.

The pizza comes (Abed goes to get it, and he doesn’t even roll a die or anything). They mostly sit and eat in silence, and Troy can tell that Abed’s upset about earlier just like heis, and he wants to say something, but he doesn’t.

“Did you really get captured by pirates?” Abed asks eventually, probably because he can’t take the quiet anymore.

Troy nods slowly, swallows his mouthful of pizza. “It wasn’t really as cool as it sounds,” he says. “It was nothing like _Pirates of the Caribbean,_ they wouldn’t let us parley. I’m not even sure they knew the Pirate Code, which is just kind of embarrassing for them.”

“Jack Sparrow would be disappointed in them,” Abed says. “Sorry to ask you about it. You just never really explained it over email.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Troy says sheepishly. “I was too tired to type all of it out.”

Abed takes a bite of his slice. “So then what happened?”

“Well, they wanted money,” Troy continues. “So we gave them all the cash we had, which wasn’t much. And then they stole my laptop and phone, and LeVar’s phone, too, which is why we had to get new ones afterwards. But then the news guys found out about everything, and kept reporting on it and flying over the boat in helicopters and stuff. And I guess the pirates didn’t like that, and didn’t want any legal trouble, so they let us go and sailed away. I think they got arrested, anyway, but I never really found out.”

Abed nods. “They did. I saw it on the news. Was it scary?”

“ _Terrifying,_ ” Troy tells him. “I kept thinking they were gonna kill us, or kill LeVar, or _something,_ and then I’d never make it home.” He looks down at his plate, at the sauce and crumbs left over on it. “Was it scary for you?”

“It was,” Abed says. “I didn’t go to school the whole time it was happening. Annie cried a lot. But I knew you’d make it out in the end.”

“How’d you know?” Troy asks. “Can you see the future? That would be _awesome._ ”

Abed shakes his head. “I knew because I know you, Troy. And because I didn’t want to believe otherwise, because I care about you.”

Troy’s chest feels warm. “I care about you, too.”

It’s quiet again, and then Abed says, “Do you want to watch TV?”

Troy groans. “I’ve missed out on so much, haven’t I?”

“Yep. Three seasons of _Inspector Spacetime,_ two _Kickpuncher_ movies, _Deadpool,_ which was awesome, and _Batman V. Superman,_ which was not, the finale of _Glee,_ the _Cougarton Abbey_ movie, _The Grand Budapest Hotel,_ and a whole bunch of Marvel films. Also, this winter they’re bringing back _Star Wars_ and _Harry Potter._ ”

Troy’s brain is totally wrinkled right now. “ _Star Wars?_ And _Harry Potter?_ No way.”

“Way,” Abed says. “Hopefully, they’re well-made continuations of the previous canon storylines and not badly-written and cheap attempts at making as much money as possible.”

“Yeah,” Troy says. “It would _suck_ if those movies sucked.”

Abed hums. “So. What do you feel like watching?”

“Ah, there’s so much to _choose_ from,” Troy says, massaging his forehead to smooth out the brain wrinkles. “I don’t even know where to _start._ ”

“Well, I think tonight’s as good a night as any to watch _Kickpuncher Five: Rolling With the Punches._ Did you know they’re planning to do a _Kickpuncher-Sharknado_ crossover?”

“That sounds _amazing,_ ” Troy says. “And terrible. But I actually think I want to watch one of your shows tonight.”

Abed looks surprised. “My shows? They’re not that good, you don’t need to see - “

Troy holds up his hand. “Uh-uh. Don’t try to stop me. We’re totally marathoning both of them.”

Abed smiles. “Ok.”

So they spend the night on the couch, a bowl of movie popcorn in between them, and watch the one season of _Highway Fever_ and the two of _Galactic Conquest._ Abed tells Troy stories about the cast as they watch, and it reminds him of how every time they used to watch _Lord of the Rings,_ Abed would tell him that Aragorn broke his toe kicking the orc helmet, except this is more personal, because Abed helped bring these shows to life.

_Highway Fever_ is super cheesy and weird, and Troy can tell why it got canceled after only one season, but he also sort of loves it. There’s a ton of eighties soundtracking and scenes where the Drill-Bits (the main road crew) are walking in front of a sunset in slow-motion on the highway, and Abed rolls his eyes a lot while they watch it, and Troy laughs.

And _Galactic Conquest_ is just really _funny._ Troy can _tell_ which jokes are Abed’s, and they’re obviously the best ones. The main character, Trillton, reminds Troy a lot of Jeff, and he wonders if Abed helped write for him.

When they finish, it’s late, and Troy yawns and stretches, and Abed says, “You’re lucky I don’t have to go to work in the morning.”

Troy shrugs. “Guess we stayed up pretty late. Oh, well. That just means we can sleep in tomorrow morning.”

Abed picks up the empty popcorn bowl. After pizza, he’d changed into his green pajamas, and it makes Troy’s heart ache when he looks at them. It’s so stupid that a pair of _pajamas_ is making Troy feel things, it’s just -

He’s just missed Abed so much.

“You can sleep in my bed,” Abed says. He stretches his arms up above his head, so his shirt rides up and Troy can see a strip of skin, for just a second. His palms get a little sweaty.

He clears his throat, shakes his head. “No way, dude. You take it. I’ll sleep on this.”

Abed’s fingers drum on the sides of the bowl. “Are you sure?”

Troy nods. “It’s totally fine, man.”

Abed cocks his head. “F-I-N-E or F-Y-N-E?”

“F-Y-N-E. Duh-doy, why would I care about where I sleep?”

“But you care about the other stuff. The other stuff is F-I-N-E,” Abed says, and he isn’t saying it like it’s a question.

“Abed, I - “ Troy starts to say.

“Good night, Troy,” Abed says, puts the popcorn bowl in the sink, and disappears into his bedroom.

Troy really wishes he’d stop doing that. He feels like they keep getting to the point where they’re about to talk about what they need to talk about, and then Abed chickens out.

And Troy’s not really feeling that brave about it either, to be honest. He gets that. He knows they need to talk to each other, but talking is _scary._ Britta would try to tell him otherwise, but Troy knows it’s true.

He’s too lazy to dig through his bag looking for his PJs, so he just pulls out the bed, throws a blanket on it, turns off the light, and lies there in his clothes in the dark. He’s tired - he’s been sailing all day (and every day before that), and he’s finally home, and this is the first bed he’s slept on in two years that’s solid and not bobbing up and down with the waves, and he’s really _confused,_ and his brain feels all wrinkled, and he’s totally going to pass out super fast. It’ll be morning before he knows it.

An hour and a half later, he’s still awake. It’s loud outside with the sounds of the city, much different than the usually-quiet ocean Troy’s gotten used to, and there’s a lot of light filtering through the blinds from the neon sign at the front of the liquor store across the street, but that isn’t why Troy can’t sleep.

He can’t sleep because of Abed. He can’t stop thinking about how totally wrong it all feels, about how things aren’t the same as they were back at Greendale, and how if maybe they were still in college, and in their apartment with Annie, it would be easier. Things would probably be even better if Troy had never left at all. He wishes Pierce didn’t have to die, and if he did die, then why did he have to make getting his money so hard, and if he had to do _that,_ then why didn’t he choose to make, like, _Jeff_ do it, instead? Why did it have to be Troy? Yeah, Pierce used to talk about what it is to be a man when they were living together, but half the stuff he said was all like, “Never wear a rubber,” and “Always make your wife do the cooking.” Troy never _wanted_ any of this. Not if it means that doing it ruined his relationship with Abed.

They need to talk about all of it. Troy needs to ask Abed about the emails, and he needs to hear Abed’s answer, and he needs to know if he can forgive him, and if they can forgive each other. And he really hopes that they can.

But when is he supposed to bring it up? Tomorrow? Over breakfast? While they watch TV? Before or after he calls LeVar to talk about the money? And what if, when Troy does bring it up, Abed just runs away again?

Troy doesn’t realize he’s moving until he’s standing in front of Abed’s door. And then he realizes that the only way this is going to happen is if it happens _now._

He pushes the door open, fully intent on shaking Abed awake, but Abed’s already sitting up, like he’s been waiting for him. Troy hesitates.

“I knew you’d come in here eventually,” Abed says. “I figured you wouldn’t want to wait for the morning.”

Troy swallows. “Abed - “

“I know you want to talk,” he says. “I know. And I want to talk, too. I promise I won’t leave this time. Just sit down.”

Troy nods. “Ok. Ok.”

And he sits.

“So, what - “ Abed starts.

“Why the hell did you stop emailing me?” Troy asks, and Abed shuts his mouth. “I mean, what was that even about? One minute we’re fine, and we’re emailing all the time, and the next you just don’t respond? I don’t understand, Abed. You didn’t even say that you wanted to stop. You just did, and I have no idea why.”

Abed nods. “I understand why you’d be upset about that.”

Troy shakes his head. “I’m not upset, Abed, I’m _mad._ I mean, I thought you might have just been really busy at first, and that was why it was taking longer for you to respond than normal, but then you never replied to me, and it - you kind of broke my heart, Abed.”

Troy swallows thickly, blinks away his tears. Abed is nodding, and he looks really sad, and Troy’s head feels like a busted A/C unit.

“I’m sorry,” Abed says.

“I don’t know if that’s enough,” Troy says, hating the way his voice quivers.

Abed holds up his hand. “Let me finish. I’m sorry that I stopped emailing you, Troy, really, I am. And you were right that I was busy - I usually reply to them as soon as I get them, but when I got your last email, I was about to go into my interview for _Galactic Quest,_ and I told myself that I’d write back later, but then when I got home, Annie surprised me with Jeff and Craig - the Dean - and we had dinner and drinks together. And when I woke up the next morning, I wasn’t thinking about your email, and by the time I did think about it, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to respond.”

“But _why?_ ” Troy asks. “I get being busy, but why didn’t you want to respond? Did you - “ Troy grits his teeth. “Did you find a new best friend, or something?”

Abed frowns. “We’re the clichéd sitcom besties. I’m not going to stop being your friend just because you left me. Do you think if Turk went sailing around the world that JD would just forget about him and move on? We’re like Turk and JD, Troy, except we’re _better._ ”

Troy sighs. “Then why did you suddenly not want to talk to me anymore?”

Abed swallows. “Before I came here, Britta told me that moving might cause me to discover new things about myself. And I thought for a while that she was just doing her therapy thing that she always does, but the truth is that she was right. I thought a lot about you while you were gone, mostly because I missed you and needed you to be there for me. I didn’t like the idea of starting a new life without you being with me when I did it. And then I realized something, and it scared me so badly that I stopped emailing you back because of it.”

Troy’s really confused right now. “Wait, what? What are you talking about? What did you realize?”

“I realized that I need you more than I can really put into words,” Abed says. “I mean, you’re the Constable to my Inspector, and the Ernie to my Bert, and there is no _Troy and Abed In the Morning_ without Troy. Then it’s just _and Abed In the Morning,_ and no one wants to watch that. That sounds terrible.”

Troy agrees. That does sound pretty bad. But he says, “Ok, so you figured out that we’re best friends? We were always best friends, Abed.”

“No, I know that,” Abed says. “What I figured out was that my feelings for you are no longer strictly platonic. That is to say,” he takes a deep breath. “I’m in love with you.”

Troy’s pretty sure his brain wrinkles so much that it explodes. He’s dreamed all the time about Abed saying these words to him, and now he’s said them. He’s actually said them. Abed is _in love_ with Troy.

Troy opens his mouth and says, “ _Huh?_ ”

“I know it took me a long time to figure it out,” Abed continues. “And it’s weird to me, because I always know things like this. I mean, I was so good at knowing everything. I knew Jeff and Britta would start hooking up before they did. I knew you were going to come out to me before you told me you were gay. I mean, my show about the study group basically predicted the future verbatim. But this was the one thing I couldn’t seem to see, even though it was literally right in front of me the whole time. I’m sorry that I didn’t realize sooner. I’m sorry that you had to tell me that you loved me so many times before I got what you meant by it.”

Troy stares at him. “I’m - I’m not really sure what to say...”

Abed shrugs. “I get it. I understand if you don’t feel the same anymore after your trip. I just thought I should let you know, so there are no secrets between us.”

Troy feels such a powerful wave of mixed emotions that his head feels foggy and his vision turns three different colors. Abed is in love with him, and it isn’t a dream, and it isn’t a vision, it’s real, and Troy has no idea what to say about it.

“I,” he starts, and swallows. “I have to know. Is this Clone!Abed or the original Abed talking?”

“It’s both,” Abed says. “It’s every Abed that’s ever existed and ever will exist, in every timeline, even the darkest one. It’s all of me, Troy, Full Abed, because every version of me has loved you for so long and didn’t know it until it was too late.”

Troy sucks his breath in, closes his eyes, and says, “It’s not too late.”

“What do you mean?”

Troy can feel tears on his face, but he doesn’t care. “It’s not too late,” he says again. “Because I never stopped loving you. I don’t think I could have stopped if I wanted to, and I didn’t, and I don’t, and I won’t.”

Abed says nothing. Troy slowly opens his eyes. His chest is pounding like a bass drum.

Abed is looking at him, lips slightly parted. “Troy,” he says.

“Abed,” Troy says back, and his voice breaks, and he cries a little, but he also smiles a little.

Abed leans forward a bit. “Would it be ok if I kissed you?” he whispers, so quiet that Troy almost doesn’t hear it.

Troy doesn’t know if he can say yes without full-on sobbing, so he just nods his head enthusiastically, and Abed carefully places his hands on either side of Troy’s face, his thumb brushing against Troy’s cheekbone lightly, and Troy doesn’t really know what to do with his hands, so he just puts them on Abed’s chest, which is solid and warm and _real,_ and Abed’s breath hitches and then they’re kissing.

It is absolutely, without a doubt, the greatest thing that’s ever happened to Troy, besides meeting Abed and also that time there were free onion rings in the cafeteria. Abed’s lips are nice and warm, and a little bit chapped, but Troy’s are probably worse, so it’s ok, and Abed’s mouth tastes like...well, it tastes like _Abed._ Troy doesn’t really know how else to describe it. His heart is beating a mile a minute, and his stomach is jiggling around like Jell-O, and Abed just keeps _kissing_ him, and then he puts his tongue in Troy’s mouth, and Troy almost explodes.

Troy leans back for just a second to say, “I love you.” And he knows that this time, Abed understands what it means.

Abed smiles. For a second, Troy thinks he’s going to say “I know.” Or he’s going to just kiss Troy again. But then he -

“I love you, too.”

Troy feels like screaming into his pillow. He doesn’t do that, but he still sort of makes an embarrassing high-pitched noise that he can’t really control, and Abed laughs softly and kisses him again. And then again. And then again.

“Dude,” Troy gasps against Abed’s mouth. “We can _never_ stop kissing.”

“I agree,” Abed says, pressing his lips to Troy’s quickly, gently. “What do you think would happen if we stopped?”

Troy hums, brushing his tongue against Abed’s. He’s kissed a handful of guys before, and even a couple of girls, and nothing, _nothing_ beats this. “If we stop kissing, an army of aliens will land and take over the whole planet.”

“You’re right,” Abed says, moving his fingers in between Troy’s own, and Troy feels a burst of butterflies in his stomach. “So we have to keep at it forever or the world will be in mortal peril.”

“Exactly,” Troy breathes, and then they kiss a bunch more.

Eventually, though, they do stop kissing to go to sleep, because it is pretty late/early, and no aliens attack Earth (that they _know_ of, at least). They curl up against each other in Abed’s single bed, and it’s not even that uncomfortable with the small space, because they used to share their bunks all the time, anyway.

“I guess we’ll have to buy a double,” Abed murmurs, before drifting off to sleep, head tucked under Troy’s chin with his hands resting on Troy’s stomach, and Troy almost cries watching him, because one, sharing a bed like couples do with Abed would be _awesome,_ and two, Abed has always looked really freaking cute when he sleeps, and Troy has missed seeing it.

It’s hard for Troy to believe that this morning, he was still on a boat at sea, and tonight, he’s sleeping with Abed in his arms. It almost seems too good to be true.

It _does_ seem too good to be true. Troy pinches his arm just to make sure he isn’t dreaming. He isn’t, and that’s the best part about it. All of this is real, and all of this happened, and Troy gets to have it every day now.

Troy smiles, kisses the top of Abed’s head, and falls asleep, really and truly happy with his life for the first time in a long time.

He wakes up the next morning to shouting coming from the apartment above and sun coming in through the blinds. Abed is still on top of him, and Troy likes the feel of Abed’s weight on his chest, like a big warm blanket. Troy lies there for a few moments, looking down at Abed’s head and running his hand through his hair, peacefully happy with the fact that he doesn’t really need to get out of bed just yet.

After a while of scrolling through his Twitter feed and letting Abed continue to use him as a pillow, there’s a particularly loud shout from upstairs, and Abed jolts awake.

He groans, pushing himself off of Troy’s chest. “Sorry about the Melvins,” he says groggily. “They’re always fighting.”

Troy smiles at him. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty well,” Abed says. “Can I kiss you again, or is your morning breath really bad?”

Troy frowns, holds his hand out in front of his face, and checks. He grimaces. “I mean, it’s not _terrible._ ”

Abed shrugs. “Whatever,” he says, and kisses Troy anyway, and maybe morning breath kisses _are_ a little gross, but neither of them really seem to care.

“Abed,” Troy says, leaning their foreheads against each other. “Do you want to tell everyone we’re together?”

“Do _you_ want to?”

“Yeah,” Troy says, smiling. “I do.”

“Ok,” Abed says. “What about our parents?”

“What about them?”

“We’ll have to tell them we’re together, won’t we?”

Troy frowns. He hadn’t really thought of that. Or maybe he just hadn’t wanted to.

“Troy?” Abed says. “Are you ok?”

“Uh,” Troy says. “I’m fine. F-Y-N-E, I think. My mom shouldn’t be an issue, it’s just...”

“Your dad?”

Troy nods.

“Well, you don’t have to tell him just yet,” Abed says. “Do it when you’re ready.”

“What about your parents?”

“My dad will probably be confused and a little weirded out, but he’ll come around in the end,” Abed says. “And my mom will be ok with it, I guess. I don’t talk to her much, but I don’t think she’ll mind.”

“Right,” Troy says. “Ok. That’s good. Do you want to tell our friends now?”

Abed snaps his finger and gives Troy a thumbs up. “I’ll pretend to be asleep so you can get a clichéd candid shot.”

Abed rests his head back on Troy’s chest, and Troy pulls out his phone, takes a photo, and sends it to the group chat.

**Study Group Chat/Save Greendale Committee/Greendale Planning Committee/Greendale 7 But Minus Pierce And Plus Frankie, Elroy, And The Dean (AND NOT CHANG!!!!!!!)**

**Me:** hi!!!!! we’re Boyfriends now

“Hey, do you mind if I make this my wallpaper?” Troy asks, showing Abed the picture. “It’s really cute.”

“I do mind,” Abed replies. “Because we can take a better one with both of us right now.”

Abed holds up Troy’s phone, and they lean their heads against each other, and at the last second before the camera snaps, Troy turns and kisses Abed’s cheek.

“Here,” Abed says, handing Troy his phone. “I think it looks really good.”

Troy grins. “That’s, like, the _coolest_ wallpaper _ever._ ”

**Study Group Chat/Save Greendale Committee/Greendale Planning Committee/Greendale 7 But Minus Pierce And Plus Frankie, Elroy, And The Dean (AND NOT CHANG!!!!!!!)**

**annie** 🦸🏻♀️ **:** OH?? MY GOSH?????

**annie** 🦸🏻♀️ **:** HOW DID I NOT KNOW ABOUT THIS?????????

**new girl** **frankie** 👩🏻🏫 **:** Congratulations!

**britta** 👩🏼💻 **:** You guys 🥳🥳🥳

**britta** 👩🏼💻 **:** This picture is so cute

**the dean** 👨🏻🦲 **:** AHHHHHHHH

**the dean** 👨🏻🦲 **:** ok i am buying tix to la rn!!!!!!!!!!!

**shirley** 👩🏾🍳 **:** I Am Very Happy And Supportive Of You Two. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

**new guy** **elroy** 👨🏾🦱 **:** I DON’T KNOW WHO YOU ARE, BUT I SUPPOSE CONGRATULATIONS ARE IN ORDER. ROFLMAO.

**jeff** 👑 **:** Took you guys long enough

**the dean** 👨🏻🦲 **:** be nice jeffrey!!!!

**jeff** 👑 **:** Ugh whatever. Congrats and all that. Whens the wedding

**abed** 🕵🏽♂️ **:** We don’t know when THE WEDDING will happen. But it WILL happen.

**annie** 🦸🏻♀️ **:** Currently packing while sobbing! I’ll be there by tonight!! And if you don’t let me be maid of honor, then I’m going to be very upset.

Troy glances up at Abed. “You’d really want to get married?”

Abed nods. “I’d really like to do that sometime. In fact, I’m pretty sure we’re already married in one of the other timelines.”

Troy’s entire body feels really hot. “Good,” he stammers. “Me too. I’m going to kiss you now, ok? And then I might start crying, is that ok?”

Abed grins. “Ok.”

**Study Group Chat/Save Greendale Committee/Greendale Planning Committee/Greendale 7 But Minus Pierce And Plus Frankie, Elroy, And The Dean (AND NOT CHANG!!!!!!!)**

**chang** 🐯 **:** ha GAYYYYYYY

**jeff** 👑 **:** How the hell did you get back in here get out

Abed has to work from home a little, so Troy does his best to make eggs while Abed taps away on his computer at the table. His hair is still messed up from sleeping, sticking all over the place at weird angles. It is literally the cutest thing Troy has ever seen, and that’s Troy’s _boyfriend!_ That’s who Troy gets to _date!_ They’re in _love_ with each other! He feels like screaming into a pillow again.

“Do you think you’re going to work at all?” Abed asks, as Troy sets his food in front of him. “Since you’re getting the money from Pierce, you might not feel the need to.”

Troy hums, sitting down across from Abed. “I’m not sure,” he answers honestly. “I mean, this money will probably set us up for life, but...I think I would get really lonely at home while you’d be at work. So, I don’t know, I could probably get a job fixing people’s A/Cs. I am the Truest Repairman and everything.”

“Yeah,” Abed says. “Or you can take the Bruce Wayne route of being a super rich guy who secretly fights crime.”

Troy frowns. “But Batman’s your thing. Hey, would you come with me while I look for a radioactive spider to bite me?”

Abed shoots him a finger gun. “Heck yeah.”

“And Abed?” Troy asks.

Abed looks up from his laptop. “Yeah?”

“Do you think...” Troy swallows. “Do you think we could call my mom soon? It’s just that, I want her to know, and I think she _should_ know. You know?”

Abed nods. “I know. When do you want to do that?”

“Oh, y’know,” Troy says nonchalantly. “I mean, whenever is fine - “

“Do you want to do it right now?” Abed asks.

Troy’s stomach lurches. “Uh, well, I mean...”

“I know you’re nervous,” Abed says. “But sometimes the best way to get rid of that feeling is to just do the thing that’s making you nervous and get it over with.”

He’s right. Troy knows he’s right. He stares down at his eggs. He doesn’t really feel super hungry anymore.

“Hey,” Abed says gently. “You don’t have to do it now if you don’t want to. Whenever you’re ready.”

Troy shakes his head. “No, I - I think I need to do it now.”

Abed nods. “Ok. Do you think we should change clothes?”

Troy shrugs, reaches over and smoothes down some of Abed’s hair. “Nah. She won’t care.”

“Troy!” Mom’s face looks bright and happy, blown up big on Abed’s computer screen. She’s wearing the purple cardigan Troy used to love, and he can tell she’s sitting in the living room because of the framed crayon drawing he’d done in kindergarten hanging on the wall behind her.

Troy smiles. “Hi, Mom. You remember Abed.”

Abed holds up his hand and waves. “Hi, Mrs. Barnes.”

“Hey, Abed,” she says. “Troy, when are you coming back to Colorado? I haven’t seen you in so long, and I’m only getting older.”

Troy laughs. “Soon, Mom, I promise. I’ve just got to get everything settled with the lawyers.”

Mom rolls her eyes. “ _Ugh._ Crazy old man. Are you going to come home and live with me? What’s your plan?”

Troy swallows. Abed holds his hand underneath the table. Troy breathes, in, out, in, out, and says,

“Actually, Mom, I think I’m going to stay in L.A. with Abed. If that’s all right with you.”

Mom blinks. “Oh.”

Troy’s chest pounds. Did he make a mistake?

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

Mom shakes her head. “No,” she sniffles. “It’s ok. It’s just...my baby’s finally leaving the nest, that’s all.”

Troy smiles. “Don’t you think I already left the nest when I went on the sail?”

Mom waves her hand. “Oh, whatever. But I’m perfectly fine with you staying in California, so long as you come and visit me all the time. I know you have the money to pay for those airplane tickets.”

Troy nods. “Of course, Mom.”

“Well, anyway,” Mom says, wiping at her face. “I don’t suppose you’ve spoken to your father about - “

“Mom, I have to tell you something,” Troy blurts.

She stops talking. “What is it?”

“I’m,” Troy says. “Well, me and Abed, we’re...um...”

He looks to Abed for help. Abed nods.

“Abed and I are dating,” Troy says in a rush, and he looks down at the keyboard and not at his mom.

Mom is quiet for a minute. Long enough for Troy to wonder if they should never have called her at all. And then she says,

“Oh, well that’s...I didn’t know that...” She seems to compose herself. “I didn’t know that that was something you wanted, honey,” she says. “But if that’s where your heart lies, then...well, I can’t really think of a better choice for you in terms of all the men you know than Abed.”

Troy’s eyes immediately fill with tears. “Mom...”

“Don’t cry,” she says. “If you cry, I’ll start crying, Troy.”

Troy laughs, even as the tears spill down his cheeks. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too. So, Abed,” she says. “You’re going to take good care of him, aren’t you?”

“Definitely, Mrs. Barnes. Don’t worry about a thing,” Abed replies.

Mom tuts. “Please, call me _Sandra,_ ” she says. “You’re part of the family now, sweetie. You can call me by my first name.”

Abed smiles. “Thank you, Sandra.”

“Mom,” Troy says. “What about Dad?”

Mom’s mouth tightens into a thin line. “Your father...well...you just tell him when you want to tell him. As for him and the rest of his family...I’ll be there with you every step of the way. And I know Abed will be, too.”

Abed nods. “One hundred percent.”

“Well,” Mom says. “It’s been nice talking to you boys, but Stacy Jackson’s having a baby shower, and I had better be on my way to that. Don’t want to miss out on the lemonade.” She smiles at both of them. “I’m happy you boys found each other. I think you make a good match.”

Troy smiles, and squeezes Abed’s hand in his. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Thank you, Sandra,” Abed says, and Mom waves, and hangs up.

“That went well,” Abed says. “I’m pretty open to calling my dad whenever, so - “

Troy kisses him. Abed relaxes into it, and rests a hand on Troy’s cheek.

“I love you,” Troy mutters when he pulls away.

Abed smiles. “I love you, too. We can say that to each other all the time now. No one will be confused about its meaning anymore.”

Troy grins. “Yeah. That’s pretty great.”

Abed kisses his cheek. “I do have to get some work done, though.”

Troy stands up, cracking his back. “That’s ok. I need to make a call. Do you really think Annie and the Dean are coming tonight?”

“Knowing them, I’d say they’re bringing along everyone else, too,” Abed says, and that makes Troy unbelievably happy to hear.

He steps out on the balcony to make his call. It isn’t quiet or anything out here, but Troy doesn’t want to bother Abed while he’s busy. It’s also not that great of a view - all he can see is the boarded-up window of the building across the street, but Troy thinks it’s sort of cool anyway, because it looks like the alley Peter Parker and Mary Jane had their first kiss in, and _wow,_ Troy really needs to try a Spiderman kiss with Abed, like, _yesterday._

He doesn’t care that he’s still in the same clothes he was wearing the day before. He doesn’t care that he really needs a shower, and that he can’t really remember the last time he brushed his teeth. Troy’s having a really good day, one of the best, and he’s only been awake for an hour and a half.

“Hello?” LeVar Burton says when he picks up the call.

“Hey, LeVar. It’s me, Troy.”

“I know,” he responds. “You gave me your number before.”

“Right,” Troy says, feeling a little stupid, but whatever. “How are you doing? How’s your family?”

“They’re very well,” LeVar says. “And very happy to see me home. How did it go with Abed? Did everything turn out ok?”

“Yeah.” Troy smiles. “It did. I told him how I felt again. Or, well, _he_ kind of told _me_ first. Anyway, everything’s really great, now.”

“Troy, that’s great news!” LeVar says, and Troy smiles wider. “I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah,” Troy says. “I’m happy, too. And I’m happy that you’re happy. And I’m happy that you’re happy that I’m happy, and I’m - “

LeVar chuckles. “I think I get the point.”

“You get it,” Troy says. “Well, anyway, I just wanted to see how you were doing. I’m pretty much good to meet up with the lawyers whenever, so. Yeah.”

“Great,” LeVar replies. “I’ll call you in a couple of days, all right?”

“All right. Thanks, LeVar. For everything.”

And he really is thankful. He’s glad that out of all his idols, LeVar is the one he got to share a life-changing boat trip with.

“Of course, Troy.”

When he gets back inside, Abed is still sitting exactly where he left him, typing away at his keyboard.

“Hey,” Abed says. “How’d it go?”

“It was good,” Troy answers. “It was really good. Hey, do you think you’ll be able to take a break from that, soon?”

Abed hits one last key and sits back. “I’m free now.”

Troy grins. “Good. Because I really want to start in on those seasons of _Inspector Spacetime_ that I missed.”

Abed smiles. “Awesome. I’ve been meaning to do a rewatch, anyway.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m here, then.”

  
Abed joins him on the couch, immediately moving himself underneath Troy’s arm, and even though he’s done it so many times before, Troy still gets butterflies. “Oh, I forgot to mention last night: they’re making a third season of _Twin Peaks._ ”

“They’re _what?!_ ”

Abed laughs. “Yeah. I really have no idea what to expect from it. But I’m glad you came back in time for us to watch it together.”

Troy smiles, and his heart feels all gooey. “I’m glad I came back, too.”

Abed grabs the remote and starts to queue up _Inspector Spacetime,_ and Troy rests his cheek on the top of Abed’s head and closes his eyes peacefully.

“Hey, Abed?”

“Yeah, Troy?”

Troy sighs happily. “I love you.”

He feels Abed snuggle closer into his chest.

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> as usual, follow my [tumblr](https://connorswhisk.tumblr.com) @connorswhisk and my [twitter](https://twitter.com/connorswhisk) @ the same. i don't tweet much but a follow is still appreciated!
> 
> also! go follow the [zine tumblr](https://trobedzine.tumblr.com) for updates on how to pay for it and when it's coming out! all of the proceeds will be donated to the NAACP Legal Defense Fund.
> 
> :))))


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